Shooting Stars
by Ladystarlet09
Summary: Six years ago, Sherlock Holmes had donated his sperm on a personal whim to the local sperm bank, unknowns to his brother & the family. Now fast forward to 2013 when a strange letter arrives in the mail, telling him that he has less than 78 hours to solve a mysterious disappearance of a young college graduate or else she would be killed who also holds a closely guarded secret.
1. Chapter 1

~I don't own any of the Sherlock characters. Katie and OC is of my own creation.~ Enjoy and review.

_ It all started with a single letter that I received through the regular mail one afternoon. I had been just closing a big case that had made headline news across the U.K. while my older brother, Mycroft did everything he can to take the usual credit of my work as usual. Not that I even cared as long as I was given a interesting case that caught my otherwise brilliant mind. _

_He supplied the puzzle and I solved it for him._

_Simple as that._

_However, this particular afternoon turned everything upside down when I opened a perfectly white envelope that was addressed to me in a neatly written fancy script writing that could only speak of that of a masculine male. The boldness and swift writing gave it all away in a single glance when I bothered to look down at it after my afternoon cup of tea. John was away with his wife to visit the in-laws, something that I loathed to do whenever I got dragged along with them. Bloody hell! Annoying parents always asking what your business is and if whether or not you are getting a girlfriend, blah blah blah. It was the same cup of tea every time._

_So this time, I chose to stay home and be bored while I watched from my upstairs flat's bedroom window the comings and goings of this boring world. Sure, we came a very long ways from being slow and stupid with the advancement of technology, but I couldn't help but wonder if no one ever gave a thought to what it would be like to do something perfectly normal, like perhaps writing a letter by hand instead of sending emails and so forth._

_And so it was, I was mildly amused when I picked up the envelope and swiftly opened it with my letter opener. I at first just glanced over the whole one page content before the words actually began to pop out from the pages as if to grab my attention with its own threats as I slowly forced myself to read it over several times._

_**"Dear Sherlock Holmes."** It read. **_"I regret to tell you that you have only less then 78 hours to solve a mystery that I have set up for you to solve. There are various people and clues that have been set up for you and I'm sure it will keep your entertainment most welcoming while I get the pleasure of watching a young female college student grad cower in my makeshift basement. Her picture is enclosed within this letter. Remember Sherlock, 78 hours or shes dead by your own brilliant mind._**_

**_ I wish you all the best luck in this world and beyond._**

**_Ta ta for now, your anonymous writer."_**

_The photo enclosed a young attractive woman who appeared to be in her early 20's,_ _with deep chestnut red hair and green eyes that sparkled with the sunlight that hit her face. She was smiling brightly at the camera but it wasn't so much as her face and smile that caught my attention. _

_It was the lower half of her body._

_ She appeared to be pregnant, most likely seven months by the size of her womb. Written beneath the picture with the same handwriting in the letter, was the bold word "YOURS." My world spined wildly out of control as I felt myself collapse from sheer shock. It wasn't often that Sherlock Holmes, the greatest personal consultant, born genius and friend of John Watson, would be literally shocked beyond comprehension. Not even my own brother would find it very hard to believe this. I almost smirked to myself as I struggled to my feet of what his reaction would have been if he had been on the other end where I am at._

_I took several deep breaths, pocketing the photo and letter in my bath robe as I made my way downstairs. I grabbed my cellphone that lay upon the mantle piece of my never used fireplace and dialed the number that I seldom used just as often, except when on a case._

_"Mycroft speaking." My brother's always business like voice spoke briskly on the other end._

_"Brother, there has been a situation that needs your immediate attention at my place." I blurted out without so much as a greeting. There was exactly a full minute and sixty seconds of silence on the other end before I finally heard him reply in a slight troubled voice that was so unlike of him._

_"Its been so long since you even called me by that bloody endearment, I was beginning to wonder if perhaps you actually became crazy with wild imaginations, Sherlock."_

_"Of course you would be the one to think that." I found myself snapping impatiently. "Listen, there isn't much time and the clock has already started ticking. I need for you and Lestrade to come here as soon as possible. I can't explain much over the phone."_

_"Alright." Mycroft sighed. "I see I have no other choice if I'm to endure another one your long, boring lecturers about evolution and its wonders. I'll be there within ten minutes." He hung up abruptly and I tossed my phone onto the small couch. I took out the photo once more and stared down at the smiling girl. What are the chance when you donated a small cup of sperm to the local sperm back six years when you were struggling to get through Oxford on a small grant from mummy and dad, only to have it wind up in a possible candidate such as this young woman? _

_Not wanting to even think that she could be very well carrying a replica of myself and hers, I grabbed my phone from the couch once more and dialed John's number. If it was anyone else who I was most at ease of talking about my personal problems and everything else, it would be him and him only. _

_After__ the ringing stopped and I heard John's voice, I let out a relived sigh. "Hey, sorry to bother you and your happy go-lucky visit with the in-laws, but how do you feel about coming home and seeing what kind of case I have? Its more interesting as it so happens to involve me and beating 78 hours before a young woman is killed. Yes, yes, you heard right. It involves me, but in a more intimate detail that even I'm sure Mycroft will have a very hard time absorbing it at all, that is if he doesn't fall over from a sheer heart attack once he hears it..."_


	2. Chapter 2

~I don't own any of the Sherlock characters. Katie and OC is of my own creation.~ Enjoy and review.

Chapter One

Sherlock was finishing up speaking with John about the letter and its contents when Mycroft and Lestrade came rushing through the flet's door at once. John immediately hid the letter and the picture Sherlock had shown him behind his back as he fell back into the nearby comfy seat. Sherlock's drawn face instantly turned into that of a almost child-like glee as he eyed his older brother and the head captain of Scotland Yard. "Ah, Mycroft and Lestrade. How nice of you to join us." He waved a hand towards the couch. "So what did you find out about the girl?"

Lestrade chose to remain standing while the older Holmes took the offer of the couch with a audible sigh. The police captain handed Sherlock a slightly thick file that he had been carrying with him.

"The name of the missing college grade is Katie Becker. She is twenty-three and half years old with a full honors from Oxford. She has an older sister that is working in Scotland Yard and both parents are deceased as five and half years ago from a tragic car accident in Bath. Kate was reported missing three and half weeks ago from the local cafe not too far from her when she didn't appear for work for three consecutive days." Lestrade paused for a few seconds, casting a glance over at Mycroft's frowning face before keeping his silence when Sherlock shook his head. "Well, all the information is here in the folder. I will be outside if you need anything else, Sherlock." He said as casually as he could before clapping the young detective consultant on the shoulder.

"So what is so urgent about this particular case that you would want me to be here, little brother?" Mycroft asked with mock disdain, even though one could easily see that he was smelling a tasty tidbit coming his way. Little did he know that the "tasty tidbit" was going to really cause him a shock was much, much more worse then Sherlock's initial one from earlier.

"Do you need for me to give you two privacy, Sherlock?" John asked uncertain if whether or not he should remain in the room when the air was already starting to taste like tension itself. Sherlock motioned for him to remain where he was as he paced back and forth before the fireplace with his fingers laced together before him.

"So a young missing female college grad is suddenly taken by her captors to a unknown location. Parents are dead, sister is way too busy to even notice that something was wrong when her phone calls weren't being replied to after several days, thinking that it was typical behavior of a eccentric younger sister." Sherlock paused for several minutes to let his words sink into his brother's brain. "And then when the co-workers reported her missing, the sister ends up removing herself from work to focus on finding the younger."

"And what makes this case so bloody special that you had to take me away from a very important visit at Parliament?" Mycroft abruptly cut in with a wave of his cane. "Isn't this just a typical missing cast of a young woman that Scotland yard could easily handle on their own? Why involve me?"

Sherlock quietly motioned for John to hand over the letter and photo to Mycroft who read it over several times. He glanced up at his younger brother. "And?" He pressed with a short laugh. "What of it? I'm sure that this is something that a fine young detective such as yourself can see to, given that this suspect has already set up the clues for you."

"Look at the photo, Mycroft." Sherlock replied through tightly clinched teeth. "For God's sakes! Since when did that mind of your become that of the now generation?"

Mycroft cast him a warning glare before taking a look at the photo. "So? I don't see anything out the ordinary."

John rolled his eyes with a groan while Sherlock angrily took the photo from his brother and pointed at Kate's belly. "Here! What do you see here?" He said irritable. "I swear, your eyes need more fixing each year you grow older, brother."

"I beg to differ if you were in my shoes, Sherlock." Mycroft eyed the photo. "So it appears that she's pregnant." He admitted with a thoughtful nod.

"Yes, keep going." Sherlock encouraged him. "What else to do you see?"

Mycroft lowered his eyes towards the writing on the photo. "Its says 'yours'." He glanced up at Sherlock with a half smirk, ready to add more fuel to the fire when his eyes widen dramatically as the meaning behind what he just said hit him full force. "BLOODY HOLY HELL!" He ejaculated standing to his feet in shock. "YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THAT THIS YOUNG WOMAN IS PREGNANT WITH YOUR CHILD?!"

"Er, Sherlock." John quietly cut in with a look of concern as he expertly took in all of what was happening before him. "Why don't you open the windows and let some fresh air come in? I think your brother is about to have a possible breakdown, if not a heart attack."

"Like hell he would have one." Sherlock replied with a smirk. "This is my brother who knows everything about everyone around him, including you and me, John. Knows what you like, eat, where you often spend your time all the way down to what you would be doing in your both private and public life." He let out a hard laugh while turning on his heel. "But I, Sherlock Holmes has had a secret that I've kept for almost six years."

"I don't think I even want to know what it is, brother." Mycroft mumbled as he allowed himself to fall back into the couch with a very pale face. "Don't tell me you went out and donated your damn ingeniousness to the local sperm bank!"

Slowly, but surely, the smug smile on his little brother's boyish like face confirmed his worse fear. He let out a loud groan before his world went completely dark. John immediately jumped up to check his vital signs while Sherlock merely turned around to consult his map of London that was sitting open on his desk. "I think he will be coming around in a little bit." John said with a sigh of relief. "I just think he will need time to absorb some of the initial shock of your little delightful news before waking up again to face it."

"Then so be it." Sherlock replied carelessly. "He's a strong man with a stronger mind, if not bloody stomach. Oh, I cannot wait to see how mummy and dad reactions are when they get word of this!"

"Sherlock!" John cried angrily. "How can you possibly say that when we are talking about a young woman who is almost eight months pregnant-'

"Nine, John." Sherlock cut him off."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Kate is nine months pregnant and based on the information I have here from Lestrade," Sherlock turned around with a recent ultra-sound picture in hand. "She is not carry just one baby. There are two here and I'm sure that since she's been missing for three and half weeks, they will be due any day, at any time. So that would make three lives, not one, at stake in the hands of a possible madman." He turned back around, ignoring the beyond shocked face of his best friend and fellow consultant. Mycroft who was starting to come around, fainted once more at the mention of twins. But not before he let out a curse of having mad nieces or nephews that would perhaps inherit their father's crazy mind.

John sniffed several times while figeting with a piece of paper he had found nearby. "So what now?"

"Now we delve into Kate's past. Dig up any secrets that she may have while finding out how it was to be that I became a father this year, given that the chances of my six year old donation of life of being used, thanks to my reputation among the media and crowd." Sherlock smiled at himself. "As much as I hate to say this, John. Its been quite a while since I ever felt a thrill such as this in a long time."

John threw up his hands, tossing the paper he was playing with into the fireplace. It was typical of his friend to act like this when he was having a 'high', as one would call it, from the hunt itself. "Sherlock, I don't really think you understand the danger that we are delving into much less, putting this Kate girl and the babies, if that ultrasound isn't fooling me, into. I don't even know where we should start looking if we have less then 78 hours to find her in the first place!"

"I know where to start, John." Sherlock said softly. "We start with the older sister and see what evidence she can provide to us. And I'm fully aware of whats going on, John. The sooner we find her alive and well, the sooner I can figure out what I'm going to do about the situation she had put both herself and me in." He swiftly jumped for the stairs to grab his coat while John remain behind. He glanced down at Mycroft's passed out form.

"If anything, Mycroft. I do hope for a fat paycheck from her since we will most likely need it if we find Kate before she gives birth." He muttered to himself before resigning of trying to wake up the elder Holmes without messing up his carefully pressed grey cashmere suit. "Let's just hope she can hold out strong before then."


	3. Chapter 3

**~I don't own any of the Sherlock characters. Katie and OC is of my own creation.~ Enjoy and review.**

Chapter Two

"You know you will need to talk to mummy and dad about this very soon." Mycroft commented in his private car while Sherlock, John and Lestrade sat quietly, each lost in their own worlds and thoughts. The head of London's most prominent intelligence let out a long sigh. Who would have known that a personal amusement on behalf of his younger brother would have led to this. He folded his hands on his knee. Staring up at the face of his little brother, he wondered what was going through Sherlock's mind. Was he thinking about about the girl who was possibly carrying two version of a famous man with IQ of a full blow genius or was he just thinking about his own selfish needs as usual?

"Driver, please divert to our parents home." Sherlock spoke up unexpectedly. "I have some quick business to attend there before we go to Ms. Sophie Becker's apartment in bath."

"Sherlock!" Cried Lestrade. "This is no time to be dallying with your parents when we are rushing against the clock to save pregnant woman's life and that of your child's"

"Children." Sherlock sighed slowly, rolling his eyes just as Mycroft did the same thing. "I am merely making a quick side stop to tell my parents of whats going on. I'm bloody sure that they would want all the time in world to absorb the news that their younger son is about to be a father while the rest of us are rushing about London for clues." He looked out the window of the passing shops, people and cars as the night began to fall. "I am a bit scared of what mum is going to say." He added thoughtfully.

"Well you should be, William." Mycroft muttered to himself, using his brother's real name. "I cannot think what she will do to the both of us once the words are out of your mouth."

John exchanged glances with Lestrade who hastily covered his mouth to hid a smile and a laugh that escaped. "Excuse me, but is there something I should know that Mrs. Holmes would say to you, Sherlock?" He asked, sitting a little forward in his seat. "I mean, she would be most understanding since you_ actually didn't'_ know that the sperm bank would use your donation. Right?"

Sherlock pressed his lips together. "I knew that they were going to use it, even though it was a very slim chance in a million that I would be picked among all of the other millions of donations that men have given before me."

"Oh." John's face looked confused. "But if you gave it willingly, why hid it?"

"If you were twenty something years old and wanting to do something perfectly normal. Perfectly out of your own normal routine while experiencing the stupidly of life itself, John." Sherlock replied, turning to look at his friend with sharp eyes. "What would you have done in my own shoes at the time?"

John had the goodwill to blush beet red while Lestrade by this time, was having a very hard time containing his glee while Mycroft let out a curse and kicked him in the shins with his cane. He sniffed several times, thinking about it for a second.

"Well first off, I would have thoroughly thought things through before going into the sperm bank." He finally spoke up. "And then I would have at least had the good heart to tell the family as to prevent any public scandal from erupting, especially if I was a famous person such as you two."

Both Mycroft and Sherlock let out groans that perfectly match one another.

"Oh please shut it already with your tactical thoughts, Watson!." Cried Mycroft. "Its already making me sick."

"What? Hey, your brother asked me a question and I'm answering it with a logical answer." John tried to defend himself. Oh how he hated it when the older brother tried to backlash him with I'm-better-then-your-intelligence.

"Excuse me, sirs." The driver called from the front. "We are here."

Mycroft motioned for Sherlock to be the first to exit the car. He smiled widely as his brother shot him a death glare. "After you, William."

"Shut up." Sherlock got out with a curse. "You are ringing the doorbell, Mycroft."

"No, I am not!"

"Are too!"

"Is _perfectly_ not! This is your own fault, so suck it up and deal with whatever comes." Mycroft scoffed, smoothing his suit as he grabbed his can from the car. John and Lestrade remained sitting in the car. The brothers both shot them glares.

"Come Lestrade! I am not going in without some police authority to break up the happy family if things get out of hand!"

"Don't tell me you are going to remain here while I face the dragon, Watson!" Cried Sherlock indigently. "Some friend you are."

"Bloody ballcocks." John muttered as he unbuckled his seat belt. "I hate it when you make me feel guilty for your own faults."

"Sure," Lestrade agreed half-heartily. "I know exactly how you feel, doctor."

Mycroft and Sherlock took their time walking up the short red brick path all the while bickering like children on who was going to speak first. Lestrade and John hung a little way's back so they would get a better view of what was about to unfold.

"I sure in hell am not going to be your spokesperson, William."

"Why are you using my birth name, Mycroft?"

"Because the situation requires me to show you how serious trouble you are going to be in." Mycoft smiled as they came to a stop before the front door. He turned towards Sherlock. "However I will give aide if you start getting hit over the head by dearest mummy."

"Like I'd even ask for it." Sherlock punched the doorbell and sat back on his heels as they waited for the quick footsteps of their mother. They heard the soft _pitter patter_ of slippered feet before the door was swung open abruptly, revealing a flushed Mrs. Holmes in her bathrobe. Her worried expression that she had when answering the door, turned to mild suprise when she saw it was only her two beloved sons and their friends.

"William! Mycroft." She cried while enveloping them both at same time within her arms. "What a lovely surprise of you two visiting your dear mummy at such an ungodly hour. Oh! hello John and Lestrade." She added when she peeked over Sherlock's shoulder at the two who were all tight polite smiles. "Why don't you all come in and have some nice cup of hot lemon tea and freshly baked pound strawberry cake. I just got it out the over a few minutes ago."

Mycroft and Sherlock exchanged glances before pushing aside their mother to one side in the midst of getting the first pieces of warm strawberry pound cake, a very guilty pleasure of both brothers since childhood. Mrs. Holmes laughed softly as she motioned for the other two men who were feeling as if they were forgotten by their own friend. "Come, come! I'm sure that you two are in a hurry, but the stomach must be filled first before the work can be finished." She said wisely while closing the door behind them. "How's Mary and the baby?"

John smiled. "They are both doing just as good as you, Mrs. Holmes."

"Good, I'm glad to hear." She replied as she led the way towards the kitchen.

"I dare say, Mycroft." They heard Sherlock cry. "That wasn't cut evenly. You said that we would share a piece, not hog all of it to your own blood self!"

"Look whose talking." Came the elder brother's cheeky reply between mouthfuls as he chewed a large bit he had taken off his plate. "I need it more then you, little brother."

"Like hell you do!"

"Hey, I'm not the one in the hot seat right this moment." Another bit and swallow of hot tea. "Besides," He pointed with his fork towards Sherlock who was seated at the small kitchen table. "I'm not the spokesperson, remember?"

Their mother chose this moment to pinch Mycroft in the butt in passing which caused him to yelp while casting her younger son a suspicious motherly look that Lestrade later describe he was only very glad he wasn't her son in that moment. "What does Mycroft mean by being in the hot seat, dearest William?" She said all to sweetly while cutting a piece of cake for Sherlock. He gingerly took it from her with a very tight smile. "Is all well with you?"

"He wishes!" Lestrade burst out with a loud half-strangled noise. He grabbed the teapot on the table. "Tea, Dr. Watson?" He asked very politely.

"Yes, please. Make that two sugars for me and a pink cake."

"Coming all good time." Came the well intended pun.

The two let out titters that had Sherlock glaring their way. Mummy stepped into his line of vision with a all too familiar frown that reminded him from childhood she would wear if he got into trouble at school with the other schoolboys.

"William." She slowly started, her glaring turning almost to the point of being upset. Sherlock took two hasty bites and swallowed a fully cup of hot tea before pushing aside his dirty cup and plate. He very slowly carefully took a seat while motioning her for to do the same.

Mrs. Holmes remained standing, arms now crossing over her bosom. "Well I can easily see you have something to tell me, may as well bloody cock hell say it now while I'm still in a decent mood of not grabbing the nearest utensil and hitting your bottom with it."

"Ah, well, mother." Sherlock began as beads of sweat stood out from his forehead. Mycroft had turned his back on his brother, preferring to look out the kitchen window with his hands behind his back. Cursing to himself, Sherlock gathered his wits and smiled widely up at their mother.

"Congratulations, mummy! You are going to be a grandmother to twins!" He blurted out without thinking. John and Lestrade spit out their teas, shocked by the unexpected way he came out with the news and looked up at Mrs. Holmes face, half terrified as she remained very, very, very silent. Way too silent for anyone's comfort, not even for Mycroft who was hoping with all his heart that she wouldn't take the spoon to anyone in this small room.

"You are very lucky that daddy isn't here right now or else I would be rushing to him to the hospital this very second, William Sherlock Scot Holmes." Mrs. Holmes said in a low voice. She reached out a hand, grabbing Sherlock by a ear and twisting it painfully. "So who is the unfortunate girl that you knocked up? It better not be a bloody prostitute! I raised you better then to go knocking those street walkers up when you don't even know what bloody hell STD's they may have! So who is it, William?"

"Mum! You are hurting me! OW!" Sherlock cried as he tried vainly to break free of the death grip she had on his ear. "Mummy, I can perfectly explain myself!"

"Like hell you can, William!" Their mother thundered at the top of her voice, eyes flashing as each word hit him like a ton of bricks.

"Uh, mum?" Mycroft quietly spoke from behind her. She turned around, face still angry to find him smiling with open concern stapled to his face. "I think what William means is that he didn't knock up any street girl for any matter. In fact, he's still a virgin if you must know." He added for further evidence.

"Agh! I didn't' need to know that, Mycroft!" Lestrade cried, throwing up his hands to his ears. "Ugh!"

She narrowed her eyes. "If such is the case, how is that he's going to be a father?"

Mycroft swallowed. He cast his brother an apologetic look before staring down at his mother without smiling. "He donated his sperm six years ago and now a missing college grad is carrying his child, no, I mean twins, and we are currently rushing against the clock to find her before a madman kills her and the babes. We thought that just in case we make this public to help with the search, William and I thought it would be wiser to save you and daddy the shock and just swing by and tell you for ourselves."

Outside, the poor driver was badly startled when the front door of the Holmes' home suddenly burst opened with angry cries and protests. He glanced up from the back passenger's door which he was waiting to open for the gentlemen when he saw Sherlock and Mycroft being dragged by the ear by a highly upset Mrs. Holmes. "I don't want to see either of you back home until you find that poor girl alive and well!" She pushed them from the patio, onto the brick path where Mycroft fell onto with a yell with Sherlock following close behind as he fell on top of his older brother.

"Mummy! Let us explain!" Mycroft cried as he tried to get to his feet while holding onto his brother's sleeve. "He didn't know that they would use it in the first place!" Sherlock abruptly shoved him off, complaining that he was ruining his favorite coat.

"NO! I heard enough from the both of you. Now go before I come full force with a wooden spoon to your bloody butts!"

The driver's mouth dropped wide with shock as the two brother scrambled madly for the car. John and Lestrade were hastily making their exit as well, least she would turn her ire on them as well. They thanked her for the hospitality as they passed her by, but their words fell on deaf ears as she remained glaring at her sons who were by now, safely within the confines of the car.

Once inside, no one spoke a single word to each other as the driver hastily hopped inside the driver's seat and drove off with screeching tires smoking the street.

Sherlock was rubbing his still aching ear which was turning a deep blue and purple by now. Mycroft was bemoaning about his ruined suit and how much it cost him while he childishly shoved an elbow at his brother who shoved harder back, sticking out his tongue at Mycroft.

John sighed. So much for the hope of gently breaking the news to Mrs. Holmes without an incident. Lestrade was thinking the exact same thing to himself as he pretended to making himself appear busy by texting on his phone to no one in particular. "So what now?" John dared himself to speak up after fifteen minutes of complete silance passed by. "Are we still going to the older sister's home now?"

Sherlock shrug, Mycroft smirked indigently. "Of course we are. What other place would we bother to look for clues if we don't have enough information about Kate, Dr. Watson?" He said half mockingly. Turning towards Sherlock, he glared balefully. "Now look what you did, Sherlock! Mum is so upset now by how you came out with that stupid comment I have a ruined suit that cost me over thirty-six hundred pounds!"

"Oh, will you just stop it with your stupid accusations, brother! You always have the money to buy another one that looks less fat on you." Sherlock sneered. "How else was I going to tell her in the first place? Besides, with the way she was looking at me, my original statement made a mad dash for the hills."

"Really Sherlock? REALLY?!" Mycroft tossed his hands in the air. "Great. I have a younger brother who is arrogant in at last _acting_ like a_ normal human being_ with tact and now we have a mother that is refusing to speak, muchless us can go see her unless we find the girl alive. Thank you very much, William Sherlock Scot Holmes for all of the wonderful sentiments that this unexpected development have brought upon us all." He fell silent to glare out his window while Sherlock did the same thing from his.

"We are here at Ms. Becker's apartment, sirs." The driver quietly broke through the dead silence as he pulled up to a large luxury gated condo community.

"I will do the bloody talking, William." Mycroft hissed, shaking a finger under his brother's nose. "So stay quiet while Lestrade and I do all the talking."

"Fine. Suit yourself, brother dearest." Sherlock smiled too sweetly as they got out."I think I'd_ prefer_ to listen if I'm to even get somewhere with the information that Ms. Becker gives us."

Lestrade muttered something under his breath before lightly punching Sherlock in the arm. "Talk about being thrown under the bus, chap."

John gave his best friend a sympathetic look as he chose to walk beside him. "Are you going to be okay?" He whispered out the corner of his mouth. "I mean to say that I wasn't expecting her to take the new so hard."

"Oh trust me, John. She didn't." Sherlock replied as he followed his brother from behind. "It just her way of showing how she feels whenever we do these kinds of things to her. It happened more then once on many occasions between me and Mycroft."

"Then why throw you two out like that?" John pressed, now thoroughly confused on how calm his friend could be acting after being such a horrendous ordeal with Mrs. Holmes. Were Mycroft and Sherlock even _normal_ to begin with?

"I will admit that it took me and Mycroft by surprise when she did that." Sherlock smiled at John, showing his mischievous side. "I've learned to not push my luck with mummy dearest, but not so with my older brother. She will talk to us very soon, but not now." He took a deep breath and let it out. "Now shall we refocus on the current situation, Dr. Watson?" He said briskly while clapping his hands together. "I'm very interested in learning what we can of the mother of my children."

"Typical of you, Sherlock." John sighed in disappointment. "Always going for the high of the hunt."


	4. Chapter 4

**~I don't own any of the Sherlock characters. Katie and OC is of my own creation.~ Enjoy and review.**

Chapter Three

_**~Somewhere in London~**_

Kate Becker opened her eyes with a groan as the babies in her womb wildly kicked about. Day 21 since her abduction from her home, Kate was having a hard time keeping her emotions in check whenever her captor came into her prison to change the bedding or give her food, which thank God, wasn't laced with any drugs. The room itself in which he kept her in had only a single small window the size of two of her hands with the room being only the size of a normal bedroom. There were no closets or any other furniture, save for the twin bed she was currently lying on, a rocking chair, and a small wooden chest where he kept her clean clothes. Kate slowly moved herself into a sitting position as her stomach grumbled hungrily. He was late with her regular evening meal, something that had been happening more often the usual as of late.

"Its going to be alright, loves." She softly said to her swollen stomach while rubbing it with both hands. The air was slightly chilly tonight. She shivered before covering herself with the heavy coverlet to help keep herself warm. There was a slight jingling noise at the door before she heard the soft click of the lock being turned. The metal door opened, revealing a tall young man with light blond hair and blue eyes. She warily stared up at him, hoping that he was in a good mood this time because the last time she had seen him, he was cursing and pacing up and down the whole length of her prison as she ate.

"What time is it?" She asked politely with her usual question as her captor set a tray of hot chicken soup, fresh bread with butter and water down on the wooden chest. He glanced up at her with cold eyes for a moment before shrugging. "Tis about nine at night." He whispered in a raspy voice. "Eat first and I will bring you to the showers so you can get yourself cleaned up."

Kate didn't wait to be told twice as she got to her feet, groaning as her lower back ached from laying down too long. Her captor kept a distance between herself and him as he stood by the open doorway to prevent her from escaping. She scoffed at the mere idea, thinking that it was stupid he would even think that someone like her who is heavily pregnant with twins would try and make a dead dash to God only knew where she was. He had avoid taking her anywhere outside, preferring that she took walks within the long corridors with him in total silence. Once she was full of the warm soup and had finished up her drink, Kate slowly pushed away the empty tray as a silent indication that she was done.

Her captor nodded, taking it. "Did you like it?" He asked unexpectedly without so much as a glance her way. "My mother made it."

Kate kept her silence, nodding only once. It was good, given that the soup tasted really fresh as well as the bread itself. This told her that he had been out for a long time and had made a quick stop over to his parents place before coming here. Her captor let out a relived sigh. "Why don't you come follow me to the showers now, Kate. I'm sure that you wish to wash up and change after three days of being in those clothes."

"Sure." She replied as she waited for him to blindfold her. There was no such thing as "following" between them. Her captor was too smart to think that she would freely move about where ever he took her to the unknown areas that he was well aware there were many escape routes. As usual, he blindfolded her before leading her by the arm down the long hallway, making several turns this way and that before she felt the warmth of water and steam hit her face.

"I will leave you to your privacy, Kate." He said to her before closing the door behind him and locking it. There were some maternity clothes already set out for her on the counter as well as towel and her toiletries. Kate stared at her reflection in the steamy mirror. Her face looked slightly drawn with dark circles underneath her eyes and her hair was sightly stringing from lack of bathing for three and half days. She shivered at the possible thought of what would have happened to her if she wasn't pregnant.

She could still remember the night when she had gone outside to take out the trash and had been tackled from behind with a burlap sack thrown over her face. She had tried to scream out to alert someone what was happening to her, but the sack had been laced with a sleeping drug which quickly knocked her out. How long she was out, Kate wasn't so sure. It could have been days or weeks when she finally woke up to find herself locked in that bedroom in which he kept her in. Imagine her shock when her captor chose to reveal himself to her a few hours after she had cried herself dry. Someone from her past whom she thought she had forever forgotten. He kept the details short, telling her that he had captured her in hopes that someday she would realize how much he cared for her and that she was safe from "all possible outside harm." He even told her that he was well aware of how long she was pregnant and that he would make sure that he met all of her basic needs.

How much longer he was willing to do that, Kate figured it must have be drawing to a close since he had been rather irate with her, asking many questions in concerning that father of her twins but never getting an answer out of her. If it was one thing that Sophie taught her well, it was using silence as your ultimate tool against your enemies.

Kate sniffed several times when she felt the hot stinging of tears brimming in her eyes. It was only in times such as this she openly allowed herself to cry while taking the shower. Her only hope for remaining alive was her sister's over protectiveness kicking in once she discovered that her little sister was missing and a certain detective consultant whom she shared the two tiny lives within her body. Her captor might have scared her at several points as of late, but that didn't mean that she was going to let him get the better of her wits. Not when she had to keep as calm as possible for the well being of her babies. Not wanting to think about anymore negative thoughts, she quickly took off her soiled clothes and dumping them in the hamper as she made her way towards the large shower at the far end of the shower room.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Kate as she took her time showering, her captor was silently watching the bathroom from a hidden camera in which he had installed to keep an eye on her. He opened up his laptop in his lap and typed the words "Sherlock Holmes" in the Google search engine bar. There was a timer beside the TV screen that was counting off the hours she had remaining. Of course he wasn't going to kill her, he couldn't bear the thought of hurting her with his bare hands, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to allow the unborn twins to live that shared the same intellect and DNA as the man who stared out at him from the webpage. No, he was't going to allow their breaths soil his life with the woman of his dreams.

* * *

><p>Sherlock stood in the middle of the spacious living room with no expression whatsoever as he studied Sophie Becker. Mycroft had told Sherlock before she had come to answer her door, that they were not going to tell her that he was the father of her younger sister's babies unless she didn't cooperate with their questioning. Lestrade who had been her personal mentor when she first came to New Scotland Yard a few years ago, assured them that there shouldn't be much of a problem, given that she was of the law as well.<p>

And so it went, the usual routine questions of when she last saw her sister, how well did they get along, given that they lost their parents five years ago to a car accident, what was her normal routine whenever she was out, etc. All these boring questions and more all but made Sherlock want to scream with complete frustration.

"Sophie!" He suddenly said, abruptly cutting off his brother who was in the mist of asking another boring question. The older woman glanced over at him with tired eyes. Sherlock pulled up a chair before her, sat down and took her cold hands into his. "My goodness, you look really terrible." He said with a smile.

"Sherlock!" Lestrade whispered hoarsely. "What in the queen's bloody name are you doing?"

"Getting tiny facts that you are otherwise overlooking, Lestrade." Sherlock replied without looking up at him. "As you well know, I'm a detective consultant that you wanted on this case and so its _my_ turn to ask the questions." He regarded Sophie with a small encouraging smile. "Now the questions that I'm going to ask may seem very personal to you, but please be fully aware that they are being asked in order so that we can learn more about your sister that would lead to us finding her before its too late."

"William." Mycroft hissed when he caught the look of alarm in the older sister's eyes. Sherlock motioned for him to remain silent.

"Please, Sophie." He pressed her gently. "For her and the sake of the baby."

Sophie thought about it for a moment before she finally nodded her head. "Alright. What do you want to know about Kate?" She said reluctantly. "I'v only mention the routine answers to Captain Lestrade."

"Which is why I'm here to ask the non-routine questions, Ms. Becker." Sherlock replied mildly. He sat back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other while he regarded the older sister with a frown. John and Lestrade by this time had their pens and paper out to record everything she said to Sherlock. Mycroft resigned himself to a nearby couch, but with an open air of interest.

"What is her favorite color?" Sherlock began with the basics. "What color does she often wear nowadays since being pregnant?"

"She likes the color burgundy and wears it most it a lot."

"How so?"

Sophie paused to think. "I think she often wears it in a form of a scarf or sweater."

"Does she go out often? Hang with friends, perhaps frequent the nightclubs?"

"No, Kate is a very sociable girl, but she doesn't really like hanging in such environments that involve too many strangers outside of work. She prefers to stay at home and watch movies, reads books or often goes the gym, but that was way before she went to the sperm bank to receive a donor's."

Sherlock glanced around the room, taking note on how clean and neat it was. _Very well organized, slightly controlling but open to a stable relationship with the sister but doesn't see her often enough due to the loads of work within the police force. _He paused on a nearby picture that sat on a low coffee table. It was of Kate and Sophie during a Halloween party. Sophie was dressed in a medieval queen's costume while Kate was dressed like a Greek goddess. Pointing to it, he drew Sophie's's attention to the picture. "Where and when was that taken?"

"Oh, that was taken three years ago at a friend's Halloween party bash. I believe at that time my friend lived in Bath during that time before relocating a year later with his parents after graduation in the countryside." She quickly replied, picking the frame and handing it to him. "Halloween is the most favorite holiday for Sophie because she gets to dress up in anything she wants." Sherlock handed it over to Lestrade who studied it closely by a open window.

"After Kate became pregnant, were you aware of any types of relationships that she may have had?"

Sophie seemed to hesitate for a brief moment before shaking her head no. "She wasn't really the type for as long as I know, to have any relationship. I knew back in high school she had a few crushes, but nothing ever came out of it."

"Even in college?"

"Even then." Sophie nodded. She sighed, smoothing back a stray hair from her worn face. "I don't even know why she would want to become pregnant at her age with no man to help support and protect her. Maybe she saw someone one day with a baby and then she suddenly yearned to have one herself. I never really bothered to ask her why, only wanting her to be happy and free with her own choices. We only have each other and no one else."

"Did she ever tell you who the biological father may be of the child she's carrying?" Sherlock asked very quietly. Everyone in the room held their breaths as they waited for her reply. Sophie bit her bottom lip while nervously playing with a corner of her pink sweater between her fingers. "I think you guys need to see something." She told them without looking into Sherlock's eyes. "I believe you will find answers you seek where I wish to take you then rather just sitting here and asking me questions that even I cannot answer fully, Mr. Holmes."


	5. Chapter 5

**~I don't own any of the Sherlock characters. Katie and OC is of my own creation.~ Enjoy and review.**

Chapter Four

"I haven't really touched anything inside the apartment since my sister's disappearance." Sophie said as she unlocked her sister's apartment. She stepped aside to allow Sherlock and the other's inside. The place was spacious and well decorated with various decor of vintage and modern. Sherlock glanced around the place, taking in tiny detail as he walked around from room to room. Apparently Kate was well organized as her sister from the organization in her drawers, closet, kitchen and shelving. Everything has its own place and need. John came across a locked door down the hallway.

"Whats in here?" He asked Sophie, pointing to it. "The door is locked."

"Oh, I have the key to that room." She replied. She quickly drew the key for it and unlocked the door. "Its the baby room she and I had been working on a few months ago. We were going to finish it once I was holiday leave."

Sherlock motioned for Lestrade to keep looking for clues as he followed John and Sophie into the baby room. The walls were painted in soft baby blue pastel but there weren't very much furniture wise, save for a crib and changing table. "She was still working on saving money for the baby items." He commented to himself. There were three windows that overlooked the front street. He drew aside one of the curtains to look outside. From his view point, he could see the other apartment complexes and the street below, but nothing much else. The noise from the outside was minimal, which told him that if she had heard anything unusual, she wouldn't have taken much notice to begin with. Sherlock let out of the curtain. "What about her bedroom?"

Sophie nodded, leading the way down three doors down to a master bedroom. Inside, Sherlock found it slightly untidy but still organized to where Kate could find everything. He noticed that her bed was will unkempt, the covers thrown back in an almost hasty like manner as if she had forgotten something while relaxing. There was a large mirror vanity that was covered with various make up and perfumes as well as a silver jewelry box, which he found was locked as well.

"Only she has the key to that box." Sophie volunteered to explain as she watched him fiddle with the box in his hands. "But I'm not too sure where she keeps the key. Of all the things that she has, that box is her most prized possession."

"Well this 'prized possession' must be opened if we are to find out what we can about her." Sherlock replied, carelessly tossing it into the arms of John who just barely caught it in time before it fell to the floor. "John, see if your medical skills can lock pick that box open."

"But Sherlock, I don't even have my tools on me!" John protested. "They're back at the flet."

"Then head back there." Sherlock mildly replied with a half smirk. "I'm sure my brother's driver doesn't mind the extra mile or two."

John offered Sophie a sincere apology as he passed by her, saying that he would keep the damaged at a minimal. She shrugged her shoulders, replying that this was all in the best interest of find her sister alive, just as long as he didn't break it to pieces. Sherlock, ignoring the exchange as he opened up a sliding door closet, found various colors of burgundy incorporated into her everyday wear. He pushed aside the clothes to one side. There was usually a hidden safe in apartments like this one, but it surprised him that Kate wouldn't have one at all.

Her heard footsteps stop a few feet behind him. Glancing up, he saw Sophie standing there with her arms folded over her chest. "You asked me if I knew who the father was to the children she's carrying." She said very softly, as to not be overheard by Mycroft or Lestrade.

"Yes, I did."

She tapped her foot, fighting back tears as she glanced around the general surroundings of the room. "Then it should be important that only for your ears alone, Sherlock." She said quietly. "That I knew it was you all along."

He stopped rummaging around for a moment. "For how long?" He asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"After three months had passed, Kate became very curious about who's baby she was carrying. Imagine her complete shock and surprise when the doctor told her it was you who happened to be the donor. I was very surprised as well when she came to my place to tell me the news. At first, I didn't want to believe it that of the chances were of having your seed implanted inside her but then something changed when I looked into her eyes." She paused for a moment before continuing. "It was like you're name alone made her feel more alive then anything else since our parents died in the car crash. She often couldn't wait to get home and see the latest news on the telly of your "latest" case solve. At first glance, I thought she was starting to become overly obsessive about your life's work, but as the months slowly passed and I watched her grow bigger and bigger with motherhood, I realized she was actually trying to get to know you through what she saw and heard." Sophie looked right into Sherlock's grey eyes. "My sister is in _love_ with you, Sherlock. There were many men who tried to catch her eye, but Kate wouldn't have none of their games. She wanted you to be aware of the baby she was carrying, but first she had to look into more information about you as a person, not a detective consultant, before she could go to your place and thank you for the life you have given to her." She finished in a whisper. Letting out a half laugh, Sophie shrugged a shoulder. "Maybe you don't know what love feels like, Sherlock. But I can see it within you that you want to save my sister's life and that of your child's. You are more caring and loving then you actually make yourself appear."

"I honestly don't know what to say, Ms. Becker." Sherlock replied huskily. He rubbed the back of his neck, grimacing. "I'm not the fatherly type, given the work I do and the mental state of mind I have." He admitted. "But I can assure you that we will find Kate and the baby before its too late. I just need to follow the clues and hope that they will lead me right to her."

Sophie studied him critically for a long moment. "And what will you do when they are found? What about my sister?"

"That I'm not sure of at the current moment, but I can assure you that she and the baby would be well provided for by my own hand. I wouldn't let any harm fall befall either one of them." Sherlock was going to say something more, but Mycroft entered the room, saying that they had everything they needed to start and that they should head to the lab so Molly can analyze the evidence while it was still evening. Sherlock nodded, saying that he would be out in a moment because he was still looking at something. Turning back to Sophie, he awkwardly patted her on the shoulder. "Thank you for all the information you have provided for us as well as myself." He said business-like. "If you have any more, just call my number and I'll get back to you." He handed her his business card. Sophie took it and smiled for the first time in weeks.

"There is one other thing that I think you should have." She added while going over to the bed. Lifting up the top mattress, she withdrew a small envelope which she handed over to him. "This is addressed to you. My sister told me to come by whenever I was free and send it in the mail. But since she's missing and you're here working on the case, I thought it would be best that I just personally hand it off to you. I don't know the contents, but perhaps she was trying to see if reaching out to you letter wise would be more better then sending you an email via your personal blog."

"Thank you, Sophie." Sherlock replied as he pocketed the envelope. "I will read it as soon as I have free time."

"Who knows, perhaps you will just get to understand my sister better so that way its not so awkward when you two finally meet, God willing." Sophie added in hopeful voice. Sherlock nodded silently before taking his leave of the apartment. On passing, he found a burgundy scarf laying on one of the dining room chairs. He glanced around to see if anyone was looking before taking it and shoving it in his coat pocket. If they found her, he was sure something familiar would help bring comfort to her mind once she saw it.

Mycroft and Lestrade was too busy in the car talking on their own respective cellphones once Sherlock got inside. He buckled his seat belt and looked up to find Sophie tearfully waving goodbye as the car slowly pulled away from the curb. He smiled back with a slight nod before sitting back with a tired sigh. He needed at least two hours worth of napping as well as a hot cup of black coffee with two sugar cubes before he took a good look at the evidence so far. His gloved hand absently rested itself in the pocket where he hid the scarf. Strangely, there was a bit of a mixture of cold and warm coursing through his veins as they made their way through the busy night streets of London. Meeting Kate's sister was only 1% of the clues that he had found, there was still many more out there that was yet to be found and time was swiftly running out for Kate and his unborn twins.


	6. Chapter 6

**~I don't own any of the Sherlock characters. Katie and OC is of my own creation.~ Enjoy and review.**

Chapter Five

"So how do you know that Kate's unborn babies are yours?" John asked while he carefully unscrewed tiny bolts from the silver jewelry box that they had taken from Kate's apartment.

"I beg your pardon?" Sherlock replied emotionless from the kitchen where he was studying something under the microscope. "What kind of question is that?"

John shrugged his shoulders. "I mean, how can you be so sure that the twins are most definitely yours to begin with when you played a very slender chance game that the sperm would have even be used among the thousands of other donors."

"I didn't." Sherlock said blandly without looking up. "And second of all, I had set very clear rules for the possible candidate I wanted my children to be born from at the time of my generous donation." He wrote down a few notes in his mini notepad before clicking the kitchen lights off. "You could almost say that I wanted my future child to be given all the love and tenderness that I wouldn't be able to give them." He added in a softer tone. "Someone who could tell them things that I could not. At the time when I had made my demands on a pieces of stationary paper, I told them that if my sperm was to ever be used, they had to make sure that the female candidate was a perfect match to what I was looking for. That also including the genetic traits that the unborn would be inheriting from her as well down to the overall characteristics of the mother. It didn't all have to be picture perfect, but most of what I was looking for had to be close. Then again, I had to make a call to the supervisor of the bank I had gone to and have the file pulled from the medical records." He patted a blond file that John hadn't noticed earlier that was sitting on the kitchen counter. "From the interview to the starting process of insemination, all the way through her current OBGYN visits during this year."

John swallowed hard while trying to absorb the fact that even his best friend, who was a top honored Oxford graduate, would even give thought to the possibility that he would be a father to maybe ten or twenty children._ Sherlock sure didn't wast any time listing all those traits and whatnot's that he was looking for back in his college day._ He turned his full attention back to finishing unscrewing all the tiny bolts from the jewelry box. It was well made, given that it was obviously from the late eighteen hundreds and well crafted out of purse sterling silver with gold inlay carefully decorating the whole thing in swirling leaves of gold vines and flowers. After several moments of silence passed, John thought it would be good idea to keep the conversation going.

"You know, Sherlock. When we stepped into that apartment of Kate's earlier this evening, I swore we must have stepped into two worlds that were carefully intermingled. 'A bit of old with the new' as the old saying goes whenever a bride is given something of the family that's been passed down for generation. I get the feeling that Kate was trying to do that for herself, given that she had willingly accepted your donation without a man to help support her and all."

"Yes, a young woman who lives both worlds but cannot obtain what she seeks the most." Sherlock absently said softly as he threw himself down onto the sofa. He laid there with his fingers intermingled while staring up at nothing at the ceiling. He wondered to himself what exactly could be going through her mind this very second as she waits patiently with dwindling hope each day of being found by her sister and the police.

Given the connections between Sherlock and the unborn state of the twins, Mycroft that it would be wiser that they made the announcement public to help gain better support and cooperation of the public. "Anyone who would have the better brains around here." Mycroft had said as Sherlock got out of the car after being dropped off at the flet. "Would know that any harm that comes to the woman who is carrying your unborn twins, is facing max punishment from the government aside from the police. This is a government matter thanks to you're six year-old donation, Sherlock and I'll be damned by everyone if I allow you to sit back after this is all done. You're taking fully responsibly for that poor girl and your children if we find them in time before she gives birth. I won't accept any excuses from you, William. You are old enough to make your own decisions but this one involves me."

That was the second time, Mycroft had even been closer to saying how much he actually cared and loved Sherlock as his older brother. Hell, when Sherlock went off the radar for two years, allowing everyone including John, to assume that he was dead, it took all of Mycroft's years of training to not break down when he personally escorted Sherlock out of London by secret means.

And now as Sherlock laid back and waited for the next clue to arise, he allowed himself to think just about the smiling photo of Kate as she posed proudly before the camera with two small hands laid very tenderly and protectively over her baby bump.

What was this strange feeling he was getting whenever he felt his mind drift towards her? It was all warm and fuzzy inside his mind. It was impossible he could be falling for a complete stranger he had never met in his life. She was merely a candidate for his unborn twins. Someone who fell stupidly in love once she found out the donor's name and threw herself into a fantasy world of her own imagination.

"Er, Sherlock. You might want to come here and see this for yourself." John's voice broke through Sherlock's frazzled mind. "I think Kate might have been fully aware that someone had been watching her for a long time, maybe too long." He added when Sherlock got up and walked the three steps over the coffee table. Hovering over John's shoulder, he was surprised to find various pictures of her being busy with work, friends, shopping as well as pictures of her doing various things about the apartment. Sherlock felt his stomach flip when he realized that they were all taken by someone outside her life, someone who knew her well enough to start stalking her as she went about her daily life, unaware.

"How did these get in her jewelry box?" Sherlock asked as he flipped through all the pictures. John frowned as he pulled more out as well as several pieces of expensive jewelry. "They don't look like these have been worn. In fact they are still brand new with the price tags attached." He said while laying each on out on the table's surface. At the bottom of the box as they delved deeper into the contents, John found a sealed envelope with the word,** "Sherlock" **written very neatly on the front. He raised an eyebrow as he handed the envelope to his friend. "I believe that this is meant for you."

"The handwriting is feminine." Sherlock observed as he took it from him. He glanced up, remembering the one Sophie had given to him before he left Kate's apartment. He raced upstairs, grabbing it from his coat jacket and rushing back down. "The handwriting matches perfectly with each other." He pointed out to John in an excited voice. "My perfect guess is that her stalker is most likely her captor who took all those photos and sent them to her after a certain period of time had passed, believing that showing her what she was doing in her private and public life would help accent a bond. But of course, none of this was reciprocated, so he turned it up by sending small, but expensive gifts in the form of jewelry. Kate of course, not wanting to bother her sister who spent all of her hours and day working at New Scotland Yard, kept quiet about the stalking and gifts by stowing them inside the only thing she knew no one would be able to penetrate or even suspect she kept the evidence hidden within."

"So why the letter? Surely she must have known that the stalking would escalate into something much more dangerous. There are even pictures of her going to the sperm bank months back!"

Sherlock tapped the letters in his hands thoughtfully. "So the captor knew that she was going in to try and conceive a child, but didn't know who it was at the time. When she found out that it was mine, she quickly thought out a plan. A plan that her stalker would not see coming at some point once his plan was set into place."

"At least until she started once she went through with her plan, I think things started to get out of hand as of several months ago, my friend." John quietly said as he held up a piece of paper with cut-out letters from magazine that were glued to with a newspaper clipping of Sherlock speaking to the press. The words said,**_ "Even a famous genius wouldn't be able to give you what you seek. Do you really believe in true love when its all in your mind? Why didn't you love me when we first met? Why did you pick him of all people?" _**

"I cannot imagine the terror she must have felt when she opened it up to find that horrid message, Sherlock."

"But she was very smart in keeping everything she got from him in this box." Sherlock replied with a smirk. "Its a pile of evidence that would keep her captor behind bars for life if we are able to catch him." He started for the stairs. "I'm going to read the letters in my bedroom and get a few hours of sleep. Wake me if my brothers stars knocking at the door."

"Of course." John replied with a roll of his eyes. "The usual normal routine around here."

"And make sure that you bag all the evidence as well. The sooner Molly gets them, the better off she will be, mood wise." Sherlock added from upstairs. "Goodnight, John."

"Same to you, but I don't think I'll be getting much sleep tonight, Sherlock." John yelled before turning back to the photos. "And all of this over a girl." He said to himself before carefully analyzing the evidence once more.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile upstairs, Sherlock decided that a hot shower would help clear some of his mind before he took a look at the letters addressed to him. He silently stripped himself naked and walked into the bathroom down the hallway with a towel in hand. He didn't really care if John saw him nude. He had seen it once before while working a case two years ago that involved a particular "dead" woman of his past. Sherlock pressed his lips together. He didn't want to be reminded of Irene right now. She was gone and there was nothing he could have done about it. He turned on the hot shower, allowing the steam to fill the bathroom as he started at his own reflection in the steaming mirror.<p>

Sherlock Holmes was a highly attractive man, something that he couldn't really deny if so many females who he bumped into on a daily basis bumped into other people or even objects. From the high cheekbones, down to the longish, dark curly hair that sometimes found its way over his deep grey eyes, Sherlock's mind was always working at something. Sharp as a keen sword, deadlier then any poison in the world with all the various amounts of detail and knowledge that he had. William Sherlock Scot Holmes had it all and more.

He sighed. "Well unless you are talking about learning to love someone, then I suppose you can stop bloody hoping for it to come to you." He told his reflection sarcastically before jumping into the shower. He let out a long breath of half relief/pain as the hot spray his body. It was only during private moments such as this that he was able to actually think without being surrounded by fools. Ever since his return to London last year, Sherlock had been ever busy working case and case that always involved his brother and wanna-be terrorist. Sure, he greatly enjoyed cracking secret codes, solving mysterious deaths that involved middle to high class people and going on far away missions that often had him missing his own flet and bed. But not of this actually gave him personal satisfaction. It felt like he was always searching for something that he couldn't really find or understand properly.

Like love.

How does one learn to love another person unconditionally without any need to study them on daily basis? He loved and cared for mum, dad, Mycroft, Lestrade, John, Mary and the baby as well as Molly and so much many more. But deep down, Sherlock knew that the level of love he had for each and everyone of them wasn't the same as loving another person who meant more than life itself. No, Sherlock didn't know how to take it when Kate's sister told him that her little sister had so much respect for him and his work that she fell in love with the one elusive person that no one could hold down.

"At least until you read my conditions, Kate." Sherlock told himself while busily shampooing his hair. She must have at least read all of his agreements on that paper before signing the consent forms to allow the insemination process to begin. He didn't sign his signature at the time of the donation, rather to remain anonymous for his own private reason then public scrutiny if it were to ever come to light in the future. What her thoughts were on his specific conditions, Sherlock would never know until he found himself face to face with the young woman carrying his twins. He gave himself a half smile, recalling that he hadn't revealed the sexes of his children to anyone. If they were able to find her in time, most likely his whole circle of people were going to be in nothing but shock once the gender of the twins came out.

"Hey Sherlock!." John's voice drifted through the locked bathroom door. "You're brother just called and said that they will be making a public announcement via telly and radio in the morning. He asked that you be there when the conference happens as to show proof that you are the father of the unborn twins."

"Of course he would want to do something like that." Sherlock replied sharply. "Its his way of saying hi to the captor to further cause escalate of the problem at hand. If we are not careful with whats being said, we actually might just be rushing Kate's demise faster."

"So what do you want me to say to him? I mean, I can't just tell him to ballcock it off."

Sherlock spent a moment rinsing out the shampoo before he actually replied. "Tell him that I want to speak at the conference."

"Pardon?" John asked, confused. "You want to speak? At the conference on national TV?"

"Got a problem with it?" Sherlock challenged him. He shut off the water and grabbed his towel. "If its one thing that will keep our captor on his toes, it will be that I'm actually going to challenge him. If I play my cards right, he will only be forced to prolong Kate's pending execution if we turn the tables on him."

"So how to you propose that we do that?"

Sherlock jerked open the bathroom door, sending waves of hot steam right into John's surprised face as he wrapped the towel around his lower waist. "We show him that she has evidence stacked against him from what we have. Then we get Sophie to send out a tearful plea for him to spare Kate and the twins and wait for his response. Its a very simple tactic that even the most addled brained turd can do it blindfolded. We set the bait and he takes."

"And if he doesn't?" John pointed out softly. "What if he only becomes mad and tries to take Kate out before we can track her down?"

"He won't. This person is a man of his own word. When he says we have only 78 hours to find all the clues we need, he will keep it to the very last second. Especially if I mention that I actually knew Kate long before he did." Sherlock finished with his usual smile. John's faced turned pale white as his mouth dropped to the floor. _He can't be possibly serious._ Even if he was able to pull it off with that tall white lie, who was to know if Kate was questioned by her captor about the imaginary relationship between her and Sherlock.

"You better hope that bluff works or else that poor girl's blood will be on your hands alone, Sherlock." John managed to say once he found his voice. "That also includes your unborn twins."

Something seemed to flash in Sherlock's eyes for a brief moment before it swiftly disappeared just as quickly as it came. John wasn't sure what he saw in that moment, but he later swore to Mycroft in private that it was nothing like the past expressions he had seen Sherlock wear before when facing down a rivaled enemy or a crazed drug lord.

"It was as if something had snapped within him once my words were out of my mouth." John later recalled. "I think it was on the borderline of what happens to a man when you dare to threaten someone he loves or cares for enough, to the point he would be willing to kill just to protect that one person. I dare think that may it happened that perhaps it was more then just his own curiosity that go the better of him once he read that letter in concerning of Kate and his unborn twins. I had noticed that he changed quite a lot whenever we spoke about her as we put the clues together one by one. A softer side that is very rarely seen by few people, maybe even by yourself, Mycroft."

Sherlock was so still and silent as he stared intensely down at John, the military doctor wondered if perhaps he had said too much out of his personal boundaries. "Hey, I'm very sorry." He started to say but Sherlock cut him off with a wave of his finger.

"If that bloody bastard so much as tries to kill her and my children, I will make sure that he suffered ten times the pain that he put all_ four_ of us through." Sherlock calmly replied before heading back to his room without another word. "Another words, my dear Watson." He turned his head when opening his bedroom door. "I don't intend of having him alive to be taken into custody when this is all over."

John wiped a sheen of sweat from his forehead before sliding the phone he had been hiding in his pocket to his ear. "I guess you have your answer, Mycroft." He said softly. "He is going to kill him, regardless."

"Then let it happen." Mycroft's tired voice replied on the other end. "He did once before, he can do it again. But this time, it will be on the more personal level that even I cannot intervene on his behalf when the time comes. Sherlock must fight his own inner battles on his own. I can only do so much protecting as his older brother when my superiors demand answers. I think you can handle it from here, old boy. Do be a good chap and send me those photos as well when you can by morning. Goodnight." Mycroft hung up, leaving John to wonder what did he ever deserve to having an very unusual friendship with a highly intelligent psychopathic human being.


	7. Chapter 7

**~I don't own any of the Sherlock characters. Katie and OC is of my own creation.~ Enjoy and review.**

Chapter Six

Sherlock stood just behind his brother without any outward emotional expression as Mycroft addressed the press about Kate and her current condition. John leaned his head forward slightly towards his best friend. "He's sure not the type to leave out any detail." He smirked.

"My brother thinks its best to tell the truth depending on the situation. I've learned that sometimes you if you don't wish to the public to know a secret, tell a small white lie and all will work in your favor." Sherlock replied with a half smile before stepping away towards the podium. Almost immediately, camera's were flashing just as fast as the news media started bombing him with various questions on how it came to be that he had connections with the missing victim.

"Ladies and gentleman." Sherlock began with a half boyish grin. "I know that many of you wish to have all the wonderful and juicy secrets from the one person who can possibly solve this case without getting anyone killed in the process."

John sighed with embarrassment while resisting the urge of slapping his friend in the back of the head. "Really, Sherlock?" He muttered under his breath. "Start a interesting topic with that opening and the whole can of worms come tumbling out."

"As much as I would like to tell you the long story of how it came to be that Kate Becker is currently carrying my children, I will only say that we had been having a rather off and on relationship for the past two years or so."

The new media became a feeding frenzy as they loudly pressed various questions at once. Sherlock had to hold up a hand to silence them before continuing on. "But I wasn't aware that she was pregnant until yesterday afternoon when I received a anonymous letter from her captor, saying what her condition was and so forth."

"So if you weren't aware of all of this, Sherlock." Said on female reporter from the back of the press room. "Why are you even working on this case?"

Mycroft stepped politely stepped in, preventing his brother from answering. "Its a very complex family matter that we are still trying to work on. This girl was very dear to my brother, so naturally, he would want to do all that he can to find her before the children are born or worse off." He gave a look of warning to his younger brother. "Show more emotion or the captor will think you don't really care to finding her alive and unharmed." He hissed before resuming his usual controlled expression.

Sherlock's eyes tightened. How he hated his brother for forcing him to act "normally" with normal "human emotions." Returning his gaze upon the hundred or so reporters who were all waiting for him, Sherlock absently reminded himself to say a good word or two to Mycroft on the delicate matter of proper conduct. "Ah, well." He continued with a half embarrassed cough. "What I guess I want to say is that..." He trailed off for a second, unsure of what was going to come out of his mouth, but he knew that whatever he said next would mean the life or death of three people, not one. He felt something warm and unfamiliar slowly trail down his face. Sherlock lifted a hand to his face and was surprised to find it was only wet tears. "I am only focused on finding Kate alive and well." He continued, staring straight into the camera as he did so. "As for the captor who is holding Kate against her will, I have only this warning. If any harm befalls upon her or our unborn children during the time frame of this game you are playing with me, I will come after you with all I got. The British law has given me full authority to come hunt you down like a dog. You thought you could try and outsmart me, the greatest detective to ever live? Well, I, Sherlock Holmes is a genius to any kind of game and you picked the wrong player to deal against."

Sherlock departed from the podium just as the media went into a frenzy with a blur of questions. Captain Lestrade stepped forward, asking for them to calm down in a loud voice while Mycroft escorted his brother and John from the press conference room. "Very well played, brother." He said admirably once they were completely alone in the main lobby area. "So what are you going to do next?"

"I'm going to go back home and think." Sherlock replied without glancing at Mycroft. "There might be some clues in the letters she personally wrote to me. Once I find anything, I'm sure you will hear from me soon, brother." Sherlock smiled and briskly walked away with John following behind as he inquired about a possible stop to a nearby fish a'n chips shop to help fill his very empty stomach.

"John." Sherlock said later. He took a bite of a fry while staring out at the passerby's out the front shop's. "I need for you to see if there were any report of restraining orders against men who are around the age of 20 within the past two years. Especially college grads as well. They are often the source of trouble around holidays and summer vacation events. I'm sure Lestate will allow you full access to the files if he caught you snooping around his personal space." Sherlock fell to silence as he busied himself to filling his own stomach.

"Sure, I'll bring all that I can find, but we are practically running against the clock, Sherlock." John warned his friend sternly. "Its morning and day 2 with only less then 36 more hours to go until her time is up. What possibly can we find within those letters that will reveal to us the identity of her captor and where he might be holding her?"

"I know that Sophie and her had attended a Halloween party last year where the suspect most likely had met them and interacted with Kate in particular for some time." Sherlock replied between bites. "I believe in fact the photo that we saw in the older sister's living room was actually taken by him. I can only say that this suspect is a type that is often the loner in both public and social gatherings. He will often try to approach other women, seeking perhaps sympathy or need for social conversation/ interaction that he seldom gets anywhere except at home. He is often rebuked or rudely ignored, thus, sparking a hate towards himself for not being what they want or see from other competing males. And so it comes down to the ill fated meeting between him and Kate. She is a very sympathetic and kindhearted person who doesn't really judge others. She doesn't really like going to social events or wild clubs, but if often in the company of her sister, she will willingly go. I can only suspect that her kindness only fueled his desperate need for companionship."

"So you are saying that she befriended the suspect, not knowing that he would somehow grow obsessed by who she is as a person and then grew afraid when she started receiving pictures and mysterious gifts in the mail." John pointed out. "But why did she wait so long to say anything to anyone, much less her own sister who is a police officer?"

Sherlock pressed his lips together. "Kate didn't say anything at all. She didn't want to bother a always busy sister, nor did she think it would grow anymore serious then it did after she put the restraining orders on him. I believe if anything, she was waiting for the right moment to spring her trap. She knew at some point that her stalker was going to become more persistent and even possibly violent. So what did Kate do next that was the most shocking part of her plan?"

"What?"

Smiling, Sherlock tapped the side of his head. "She became pregnant on _purpose_. How else are you going to throw off the other player of the game if you don't do something that they cannot foresee. Of course, she didn't' know that she was receiving my sperm donation until her natural curiosity got the best of her. Did that stop her? No, it only help further fuel her carefully laid plans of wanting to stop the horror of what she had suffered for almost two and half years. Now armed with the knowledge of who's child she was carrying, Kate wisely wrote two separate letters. One formally telling me what was going on with herself, health wise and so forth and the other giving clear detail of what our suspect had been doing to her all this time. She knew he was coming for her at some point, she just didn't know when." Sherlock stopped talking to catch his breath and finish his meal while John thought about it for a minute.

"So by being pregnant, she was actually trying to buy time. Even if it cost her own life, or even perhaps the twins, she was doing everything in her power to make sure that everyone knew what was going on."

"Exactly." Sherlock beamed widely. "But I'm sure she has already closely bonded with the twins, so you shouldn't be worried if she is only doing this to save her skin. If she could have piled up all the evidence in that single jewelry box on her own without any outside help or advice, I'm sure she is already three steps ahead of her captor's intentions. She was fully aware that once I was notified by the suspect of my connections to her through the pregnancy alone, I wouldn't hesitate to go beyond the law itself and find him."

"Well, Sherlock." John sighed. "I can only pray that she's still remaining strong emotionally and mentally for the sake of the health of the unborn twins. Being in such a traumatizing environment can only further stress both mother and child to the point she would be forced into early labor. If that ends up happening, their lives will be in grave danger without out the proper medical care." He quickly stood up, grabbing his coat and placing a pound note on the table. "That's for lunch." He said as he shrugged into his coat. "Oh, and by the way Sherlock." He added. "The rent is due today."

"Already paid it this morning before you woke up." Sherlock replied absently. "Mrs. Hudson promised us pot roast with stewed vegetables and red wine when we get home later this evening."

"Save me a plate then. I don't think I'll be home in time for dinner if I'm going to be stuck all day going through two years worth of paperwork at New Scotland Yard." John winked. Sherlock took a sip of tea. Pulling out his cell phone, he dialed Molly's work number. The phone rang twice before it was swiftly answered by the lab coroner. "Hello Sherlock!" She answered brightly. "And what can I do for you as always?"

"Molly, I need for you to do something very important for me." Sherlock replied as he got up and headed outside. "Time is running out and I need for you to have someone in the tech lab look into all possible jobs that involve young college grad males working in large warehouses in the surrounding area of Bath. Mostly lanky types, people who are often put in stocking or perhaps even the office position where there would be less socializing going on."

"Okay, I'll see what we can pull up."

"Oh and one more thing please." Sherlock asked sweetly.

"As always." She allowed with a merry laugh. "What is it?"

"I need for you to have a medical team on standby. If we are successful in finding Kate alive before her time runs out, I think we will have our hands full once she goes into labor. That is if the stress doesn't get to her first and causes her to go into forced labor."

Molly murmured something intelligible under her breath that sounded almost like a curse word or two to Sherlock's ears. "Don't worry. I think John already made the call first and beat you to the punch last night after he came by to drop the evidence off at my lab."

"Good. Then he at least he was awake enough to think of that." Sherlock hung up without saying goodbye. He dared himself to take a look at the time.

9:50am.

Two days and six hours was all that was left.

Sherlock put away his phone and headed towards the one place he never thought he would see in his entire life, much less dare himself go to in such a dire situation.


	8. Chapter 8

**~I don't own any of the Sherlock characters. Katie and OC is of my own creation.~ Enjoy and review.**

Chapter Seven

The large wooden doors were wide open when Sherlock slowly approached a small church. There were a few worshipers inside, but it was mostly quite for the time being before the evening mass. He grimaced, knowing that religion wasn't really his forte to even begin with, but what was he going to do if he had not one else other then John or Mycroft to confide in about his own personal thoughts and feelings.

Yes, as amazing and shocking as it may seem to those who are often the outsiders in Sherlock's little world, he does have feeling but he wasn't sure how to show them or feel them without over-analyzing everything. The detective consultant glanced around his surroundings before quickly entering the church. He took a seat in one of the back pews, starting up at the cross of Christ that hung above the small alter up ahead. He crossed his legs and sat back waiting. There was no need to rush at the moment. As long as Kate's captor was aware of the fast spreading news media that was making it way around London and beyond, he wasn't going to do anything to her. He was too careful and cautions for his own good to wanting to make a speedy kill of both mother and children. He was going to play out the whole game because Sherlock willingly accepted his challenge and if he were to break his word before time was up, the man knew that he was going to be hunted down like a wild animal by all who cared for the girl.

"Ah, Sherlock Holmes. Its been a good while since you graced my little church for anything other then perhaps a clue or two." A frail male voice spoke kindly. Glancing up, Sherlock saw that the pastor of the church was sitting beside him. "And what brings you here at this unusual hour of the day, hm?"

"I take it that you may have seen the latest breaking news on the telly today, father Conrad?" Sherlock replied softly.

"Well, sadly, I didn't." Father Conrad replied, shaking his head. "I was called away to give last rites to a dying father early this morning, so unfortunately, I wasn't able to really get to see the news. Why, what happened?"

Sherlock reached into his coat pocket and showed him Kate's picture. "Her."

Father Conrad slowly took the picture from him and held it up under the sun's soft rays so he could see it better. He reached into his sweater pocket and took out a pair of wire glasses. "My, my. I think I've seen this young woman before in my church a few times last year. Isn't this the missing college grade that's been headlining the news as of the past month?" He asked, surprised. "Is the case that bad that you were assigned, my son?"

"Yes, and I'm afraid that there are more to the story then what you actually have been reading in the papers or seeing on the telly." Sherlock absently played with one of the ends of his scarf between his gloved fingers. "I actually honestly don't know what to tell you to begin with, father."

The pastor motioned him to stop for a moment and get up to follow him. "I think it would be more wise if we spoke of this behind a more private setting, Sherlock." He swiftly walked, despite his old age, down the short aisle before making a turn to a door to Sherlock's right. He opened the door and stepped inside with Sherlock following from behind. "Please excuse the mess, but I've been doing to some early spring cleaning in my office." The pastor took a few dusty books off a leather chair and offered it to Sherlock while he looked for a place to put them. Once he did, father Conrad took a seat behind the small oak desk with his hands neatly folded before him. "So you were saying?"

"I was going to tell you that there is more to the story then what you've been hearing."

"Okay, and what brought you here?"

"You said that you saw this young woman worship here last year?" Sherlock lightly touched on an earlier comment. "When last year exactly?"

"Well to answer your question, I would need to grab the log book." Father Conrad laughed. He slowly got his feet with a low groan about not being as young as he once was. He shuffled at an overstuffed bookshelf for several moments before locating a red bound hard cover book which he brought back to his desk. He carefully opened it and scrolled through the various names and dates of his past flock before stopping halfway on the last page. "Here, Kate Becker. She visited my church last spring around April for the first time, seeking godly advice and such. I gave my council naturally and she was gone for at least three full months before I saw her again in late September and the following month."

"But nothing more after that?"

"No, nothing at all." Father Conrad shrugged. "I assumed she must have found something during her spiritual path and was happy about it. If there was any other issues bothering her during that time of when I saw her those three times, I don't think I may have noticed it without her saying anything at all."

Sherlock carefully filed the pastor's words in his mind's file bank for future reference. He glanced around the small, messy room, taking in all of the various religious books and hymns that lay about. "The reason I'm asking is because she's pregnant." He finally said after a while. Father Conrad's only reaction was the surprised raise of his eyebrows, but he kept silent as he continued to listen to Sherlock's story. "I had only recently found in within the past forty-eight hours that I'm the father of her unborn twins and that I have less then two and half days from now to find her before her captor kills either her or the twins or both."

"Dear Lord!" Exclaimed father Conrad. "Has there been any leads so far in the case?"

"No, but with you mentioning of her three different visits to this church, I've got a good feeling she may have intentionally left something behind for me or perhaps other who would end up looking for her, to find."

The pastor's jaw fell. "Here? On holy grounds? Why would she even think to do something like that?"

"Because, father." Sherlock replied, smiling. "She knew that she was going to go missing at some point. Time was running short for her, so she had to plant them in areas where the captor wouldn't dare go to for either practical or personal reasons."

"So putting them here in my church would prevent him from entering. How very cleaver of her."

"Indeed. So this can only further tell me that her captor is an atheist. Someone who doesn't believe in higher power or the laws of the church. If she could enter sacred ground, he could not. Which is why after analyzing some of her movements from what I saw in the evidence, I thought it would only be in my best interest to gather what I could here."

"So you are not here for spiritual divine intervention?" father Conrad grinned.

"No, not at all." Sherlock smiled mildly. "Just a mere visit."

"Well, my place is open to you. Take all the time you need to search it, but you will need help." Father Conrad spread his hands wide. "As far as I know, if you don't want to cause much media frenzy, just have a friend help you."

"I already contacted him." Sherlock replied while jumping to his feet. "Captain Lestrade will be here soon, so I'll be sure that he keeps a low profile."

"I know that this may seem improper of me to ask you, but what are you planning on doing after all of this is over and the young woman is found safe and sound? I'm sure she will be facing a long road of recovery after all of the high levels of emotional and mental trauma she's currently suffering at the hands of whoever is holding her against her will. And if the babies are not affected by all of this stress, they will need a father to help guide and support them."

"You are the third person or so to ask me such an absurd question." Sherlock replied half mockingly. "Am I not a man of word and human feelings? Have I been painted as such an unemotional beast that no one can see the difference between the fine lines of Sherlock Holmes himself? I'd rather not be involved if such was the case, but I have consequences that I need to deal and face. I made that donation years ago and now its come to bite me full on, so whats the use if I ran away from being a responsible parent?"

"That maybe this is God's way of telling you that you need a change in your lifestyle, my son." Father Conrad pressed gently. "I understand fully that you don't really believe in his holy word and all, but there are sometimes hidden message that are being spelled out through various ways of life's natural course. You just have to find the clues and piece them all together yourself. No one else can do it for you, Sherlock. Not your brother, John, Lestrade, your parents, friends, no one but only you and your own heart."

Sherlock stared down at the desk. "I found out in one of Kate's letters that her older sister given me after I had questioned her is that she had fallen in love with me and not the professional consultant she sees on TV or reads in the newspapers. How can a woman such as herself who just whisked herself off to the nearest sperm bank and got implanted by my own seed after reading and willingly signing all of my requirements without so much as a second thought once she found out who the donor was? Its such an absurd way of viewing things in this crazy world."

"And how do you feel to be loved by a complete stranger who is becoming a mother to your own unborn child?"

"I honestly don't know." Sherlock replied with a half shrug. "I'm still searching within myself."

"Then keep searching until you find the answer, my son." Father Conrad replied while getting to his feet. "I must see to my sheep today before they leave." He walked to the closed door and turned for a moment with a kind smile. "For whatever reason that Kate fell in love with you as she grew with life, I'm sure its all for the right reasons. You will be fine and so will she once she's safe again." He left Sherlock to think. The young detective glanced around before going back out into the main hall where he found Captain Lestrade standing before the alter with a bowed head. He glanced up at the sound of someone approaching him.

"Ah, Sherlock." He smiled, clapping the young man on the arm. "So where do we look first?"

Pointing up to the ceiling above them, Sherlock grinned. "Church bell."

Lestrade turned a little green around the corners of his mouth, but he swallowed his pride and fear before muttering why he always listened to the crazy ways of Mycroft's little brother. "Alright, let us get this done and over with before the sun goes down. I heard it gets pretty windy and cold up there around midday or so if one is not careful to keep their wits together."

The pair made their way to the church tower door. It swung easily open, but not without a loud squealing noise that had them both cringing as they entered the small room where a long spiraling staircase led up two stories to the where the bell hung. "You said that she hid something up here?" Lestrade asked as he took a peek upwards. "Beats me why she would in the first place without getting caught by father Conrad." He stepped to one side at the bottom stair. "After you, Sherlock." He said cheerfully.

"You were never one to handle your own alcohol." Sherlock rolled his eyes as he ascended the steps. "I see it still holds to this very day."

"Oh, piss off!" Lestrade cried as he followed behind. "Anyway, what are we looking for exactly?"

"I'm not entirely sure."

"Bloody hell! Then why the hell did you call me in the first place if you don't even know what the balllocks we are looking for?!"

"Because two pairs of eyes are better then one." Sherlock added as they came to a stop at the bell tower. The wind was sharp and chilly, but the view was breath taking as it overlooked the small parts of the city and its various big monuments. "She wouldn't have been able to see where her stalker was from the ground, but she could easily see him from up here if she were to get a good look from all four directions." Sherlock glanced around but didn't see anything out of place in the neatly swept tower. He motioned for Lestrade to fan out as he mentally counted the various red bricks before him. He paused after ten minutes of counting.

"I think I found something." He called out. He quickly pulled out a small pocket knife which he proceeded to use to prey off one of the discolored bricks from at the base of the tower that looked eastward. Lestrade hurried over just in time to see Sherlock pull the brick easily from its place. Just inside its place, laid a single white envelope that matched the ones Sherlock had seen the two letters she had addressed to him. He handed it to Lestrade before putting the brick back in its proper place.

"Its sealed." Lestrade observed as he carefully unsealed it with his own pocket knife. Within it, was a single photograph of a tall, lanky looking young man with a shadow beard. He was wearing a dark beany cap with blue jeans and a plaid shirt. In his hands was a camera that was pointed at something or someone. The shot appeared to be have taken from the same place where they were standing right now from above.

"She knows he was following her so she wanted to get a good shot of his profile before he took notice of anything out of place." Lestrade whistled. "If I knew she was this smart, I would have asked to task force to hire both her and her older sister at once. This woman got's brains and she's not afraid to use them when in danger. I'll be sure to take this down to Scotland Yard for data analysis so we can get a facial recognition in the system. Maybe we will get a record with a name and full profile of this sick bastard." Putting the picture back into the envelope, Lestrade stuffed it into his coat pocket while glancing around the full surrounding area. "I'm surprised that she went through all this trouble to catch a stalker."

"I can't really imagine the constant fear she must been going through while she went through all the pains to build up a case against him." Sherlock commented absently. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "We should keep looking for other clues that she might have left around here. I'm going back down to look around in the main building."

"I think that's a good idea." Lestrade happily agreed. "Just being at this height is already giving me the jidders."

After spending almost four hours of careful searching over every inch of the church, Sherlock and Lestrade discovered six more pictures of Kate's captor that she had took from different locations that were hidden beneath three different cushioned pews. It became soon apparent to them that Kate had become more aware of her stalker's movements wherever she went about town and needed something to prove to authorities of what was happening to her on a daily basis. Sherlock thanked father Conrad for his cooperation before leaving with Lestrade.

Once they had hailed down a passing taxi, the detective consultant wondered out loud where the hidden clues from Kate's captor were. "I've only seen what Kate's left behind for my own eyes, but haven't yet seen what her captors wants. This is the kind of game where I often wonder who's really the mastermind behind all of this."

"Are you insinuating that perhaps Ms. Becker had all of this planned out so she could somehow meet you by putting her own life on the line with a madman?" Lestrade asked incredulously.

"No, I am not. I'm merely wondering if perhaps her sister is withholding more information from us then I had first thought when we had gone to interview her. I know that Kate wouldn't even be able to pull off such a wild scheme without having too many loopholes, Lestrade." He glanced out his passenger side window with a frown. "No, she was afraid of something far more darker then just her captor's presence. What that is, I cannot really say until I've pieced everything together, but my gut is telling me that she's still in the general area of London and not out in the countryside. It would be very hard on her captor to even move a eight and half month heavily pregnant woman to the countryside where there are hardly any professional doctors or hospitals within driving distance. There would be hardly anyone out there to help without arousing suspicion to himself and the girl." Sherlock's face suddenly cleared as a light bulb went off in his head. "Ah, my dear Lestrade! How could I have been so stupid as to not think about any of this!" He cried excitedly.

"What in the queen's name are you talking about?" Lestrade replied, now thoroughly perplexed by his friend's sudden mood change. For as long as he had known the boy, it still baffled him how bipolar Sherlock could be during cases such as this one.

"How long does it take to get from here to the nearest countryside, Lestrade?"

"Er, it depends if you are either going on foot, car or bike." Lestrade replied, scratching his head. "Why?"

Sherlock clapped his hands with an exclamation. "Because our captor is from the countryside. He was born and raised there with hardly any comings and goings into London until he reached the age of twenty-one or two when he had to go to London for a higher education. If my guess is correct around the time frame of when these stalking occurred, he might have met Kate at the Halloween party the year before and that is when his obsessive behavior started."

"So what exactly are we looking for?"

"Narrow the search down to any families who live in the countryside who have sent their male child to Oxford within the last three to four years. If anything comes out of this and the other information that I sent John to Scotland, we might be able to narrow the general area of where he might be keeping Kate."

"We still have less than two days to find her. I will send out all available officers into the countryside to interview the families we have on record. Let me know if anything comes up, Sherlock." Lestrade hailed the cabdriver to stop in front of Scotland Yard and got out. He peeked inside for a moment. "I hope you are ready for all the responsibilities that come with being a father if we find the girl, lad. After all of this is said and done, I don't think you will be able to be the same Sherlock that I'm looking at right now." He commented before shutting the door on Sherlock before he could reply. The cab drove forward once more while Sherlock stared down at his gloved hands. "Only time will tell." He said softly to himself.


	9. Chapter 9

**~I don't own any of the Sherlock characters. Katie and OC is of my own creation.~ Enjoy and review.**

Chapter Eight

Kate was abruptly awoken from a deep sleep to the sound of keys being jingled outside the door of the prison she was being held in. She glanced up towards the tiny window above her head and found it was still dark outside. The door opened, revealing her captor with a small tray of food. He shut the door behind him with his foot before walking up to the bed where he placed the tray on the floor before retreating towards the far side of the wall opposite of her.

"What time is it?" She asked her usual question while slowly getting up into a sitting position. The lower half of her back was starting to ache more the usual. That wasn't a very good sign for her end. Kate slide herself off the edge of the bed onto the floor. She found that he had brought her a bowl with steamed white rice with grilled chicken and fresh vegetables as well as a cup of hot green tea. It seemed as of the past night or two, he had been gone more longer then usual, so she was forced into sleeping to help stave off the hunger.

"Its past nine-thirty." He replied softly. Kate didn't allow eye contact as she hungrily ate the food. She took small sips of the hot tea between bites while he continued to watch her. "Is all well with you and the child?"

"What do you think?" She couldn't help but snap irritably before biting her tongue when she realize what she said. "I mean to say," She said more calmly. "I could be better if I had access to a doctor."

His face remain void of any outward emotion, but she could tell by the look in his eyes that he was absorbing every single word she said. "I'm afraid I cannot allow anyone to know where you are." He said after a moment of silence. "But perhaps I can help ease whatever it is you may be feeling by getting something from the local pharmacy."

"I need much more then that if I start going into labor. How long are you going to continue holding me like this against my own will? Besides, you have already caused me more then enough trauma when you started to become more obsessed with what you couldn't have."

"True, but I have a reason."

"And what exactly is that reason of yours?"

Her captor laughed softly, but it sounded almost like a crazy laugh that send a cold chill down her spine. "I don't think you want to know the answer when you're days are being numbered as we speak." He finally replied. Kate's stomach began to turn upside down. The unborn twins were also starting to pick up her panic emotions, kicking wildly about as she tried to remain as calm and collected as possible for their own sakes.

"So that is your plan." Kate bravely pressed. "You are going to kill me."

He stopped in the mist of a smirk. She looked scared as her face became deathly pale. "No, I'm not going to kill you at all. I'm merely seeing if a certain someone out here has enough intellectual brains to see past what all the little clues that you put in place for him to find. I really doubt that he would even guess that I'm holding you here since you didn't know I was going to hold you here of all places. And even if he did." He crouched down to his knees and reached out a hand toward her face. Kate turned her head the other way to avoid his touch as he came closer towards her. "Who's to say what he will find once I'm done with you."

"You're a monster."

Another cold laugh. "Maybe, but we shall see." He got to his feet and threw something wrapped in a newspaper at her lap. "Let's see how long this little game will last before the timer runs out." Kate didn't say anything as he left her alone. Her stomach seemed like it was going be sick, but she knew her body and unborn twins needed the nourishment. If she allowed the fear to settle into her mind, with little hope of possible rescue or even finding a way out of this forsaken place, Kate had already lost the game. From the very beginning since that night at the Halloween party two years ago, Kate had played the game for far too long. Many times, she had tried to leave clues for her own sister of what was starting to become a nightmare for her, but each one went unnoticed.

So Kate was forced with documenting every letter she got, every picture of herself going about her various business in private and public, all of it and more so, she quietly stacked all the evidence. She was scared to death of her own safety, but what was she going to do? There was no one out there that was willing to listen to her. At least until that day when she decided to take a risk and put her body through dramatic changes that were going to forever alter her life.

Kate had done plenty of research on impregnation through donated sperm from a sperm bank as well as how to single handily raise a child on her own. Her sister had been shocked to the point of almost horror when Kate had explained that she was ready to have a baby out of the blue over dinner one night. Sophie tried everything in her power to stop her sister from going through such an outrageous move, but it was too late. Her baby sister had already made the appointment for the starting process to begin within the week.

Kate laughed at the memory of staring at a yellow piece of paper that had a long list of requirements of why she had to be the perfect candidate for the sperm she was receiving. She had to be smart, good looking, outgoing personality while being mature in serious situation and not to mention, just being normal. The young woman glanced down at her big, swollen belly and gently placed two hands on either side of her stomach. "If I had known that he would have become more brazen to even think about hurting you two, I wouldn't have even risked thinking of becoming pregnant on purpose to save my own skin. I must be more monstrous then my captor of putting you in danger." She closed her eyes and tried to pick their father. "I pray that he's getting more closer of pinpointing where we are being held for your own sake than my own. I'd rather die then let that monster touch a finger upon when it is time for you to be born. So just hang in there for me, just for a little while longer." Kate quietly sobbed to herself as the hours slowly and painfully passed on into a new day

_~Meanwhile~_

Sherlock stood outside two rusty iron gates of an abandoned four-story penitentiary. There was plenty of graffiti that had been sprayed all over the faded red and white brick building, as well as various trash that was littered on the unkempt grounds. He had been going about his nightly walk, thinking about all of the new information that he had discovered within the past several hours when he happened upon the very old building. He wasn't sure what drew him to this godforsaken place, but his gut was telling him that something was hiding within these abandoned walls. And if one person were to try and keep a pregnant woman hidden from the world in the least remembered place, this would be it. He glanced around for security cameras and found none before pushing upon the gates. They didn't budge. Upon closer inspection, he found that someone had recently put brand new chains around the middle part of the gates to keep outsiders from trespassing onto the perimeter. He glanced up at the darken windows. If she was in there, he wouldn't even know where to even start searching for her without drawing the attention of her captor.

Clinching one of his gloved hands into a tight fist, he reluctantly resigned himself of coming back the next night, but with better back up just in case things got out of hand if they found some homeless people squatting within.

"So you think he might be holding her here?" John's voice suddenly spoke up from behind him, nearly causing Sherlock to turn around and instinctively punch him in the face. The detective consultant drew himself short with a oath.

"Watson, how many times have I told you to not sneak up on me like that!"

"My sincere apologies, but I can say the same for you when the roles are reversed." John replied without any remorse. He surveyed the broken down crazy house. "I don't think she's in there."

Sherlock started walking briskly away. "Well I do, and there is less than two days that we have on our side of finding her alive before any harm comes to her or the unborn twins."

"And how do you propose we do that?" Demanded John as he tried to keep up with his best friend. "It's utter madness if you end up pulling what you did that last time. Or perhaps you don't remember that it was your older brother that prevented the swat teams from shooting the bloody hell out of you from the helicopter."

"I perfectly remember what took place." Sherlock gritted. "And you don't have to remind me of the consequences. Maycroft is well aware of my plans as we currently speak, so I don't think there should be no reason of you blabbing senselessly about anything else. I on the other hand, have a plan that involves drawing out the captor from that abandoned penitentiary, if my hunch proves to be right. We just need to wait for the right moment and then spring the trap."

"You make it sound like it will be so easy of catching him. I wasn't even able to ID anyone back at Scotland Yard that has had restraining orders served against them within the past two years."

"Because there wasn't any filed against the one holding Kate. She had tried to tell her sister what was going on, but instead got the blind eye." Sherlock suddenly stopped walking in the middle of the sidewalk, causing John to bang into him from behind. "John, if a woman is about nine months heavily pregnant, how long will it be before she starts to go through the conceiving process?"

"Beg your pardon? Oh, well I suppose based on the medical records that you had me look over last night, I can only think that it will be any day now. Why?"

Sherlock didn't immediately reply. He resumed walking in silence. "Kate is under extreme stress even more so as her captor counts down her days and hours, so it will only add further more if she goes under premature labor within the next twenty-four hours. We don't have time to sleep on our end, John. I need to create a plan that he will be easily lured into fast without any second thoughts."

"Maybe mention something about his parents being dead in a car accident?" John shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "I don't know, maybe if we made it public and real enough, he might fall for it and come running out. I have found in the past that no matter how crazy a person might be in the head, they all still have strong ties to their roots and parents."

Sherlock suddenly turned around and grabbed his friend into a tight hug that knocked all the air out of his lungs. "Watson my friend! You are a genius!" He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Lestrade's phone number. "Hi, Lestrade? Yes, please contact my brother at once and give me any information that you may have on our captor's living relatives."

John mentally prayed that whatever Sherlock was deciding to pull of would end up working and no someone ending up dead, other then the suspect himself because all hell was going to literally break loose from the seams. "Why am I always the one to go along with such absurd ideas, much less even propose them to this maniac?" He muttered under his breath before once more running after Sherlock as he continued to speak to Lestrade.


	10. Chapter 10

**~I don't own any of the Sherlock characters. Katie and OC is of my own creation.~ Enjoy and review.**

Chapter Nine

"We will need to time everything just right if you want this crazy plan of yours to work." Lestrade said as he, Maycroft, Scotland Yard swat team, John and Sherlock himself stood around a table on which had an old map layout of the decaying penitentiary. "These rooms will be mostly locked or have little to no access on the main floor here." He pointed to a key point of the map. "And the main problem is that we don't even know where he may be keeping her in this place, if your hunch proves to be right."

"He will talk." Sherlock said quietly, gazing at the blue prints. His mind was already filing every inch of the map. "Her captor started this game and he will finish it to the very end." He suddenly turned around, grabbing his coat and gloves from a nearby aide at the door. "John, come along." he called back without glancing back. "We have work to do."

Maycroft let out a tired sigh while rubbing his two and half day old shadow. "I swear, each year that Sherlock gets older, the more I grow to worry even more so about himself and his mental stability."

"You can say that again." Agreed Lestrade as he handed out copies of the original map to the swat teams. "Is everything in places so far?"

"Yes, and we have the suspects parents in protective custody as we speak. I dare say that we must have frighten the poor mother to her wits end when I and several of the government agents showed up early this morning at their front doorstep. Didn't even give them time to grab their robes, and out the door we went on our merry way." He chuckled at the memory of how the old woman hit him over the head repeatedly with a wooden spoon, while angrily demanding answers as he and the other agents had them dragged into bullet proof SUV's. "I havn't yet told them the reason why I had them 'arrested' by the FBI, but I can count on my brother that they will learn of whats going on in good time. As a matter of fact, he and John are on their way to the building in which the suspect's parents are being held at. If anything good comes out of the meeting, I'll forward it to you as soon as possible."

"looking forward to it." Lestrade poured himself another hot cup of coffee. He thought about how upset his wife would be if she saw him drinking his fifteenth cup in a mere three hours. "We will be rolling in less than seven hours from now. Let us hope to God and the queen, that Kate will be able to hold out for a bit more longer."

"Sherlock has already made arrangements with his close friends to have a medical team on standby at the scene if anything unplanned goes down." Maycroft assured him before stepping out of the room to take a incoming call.

Meanwhile back at an undisclosed location, Sherlock was briskly walking down a narrow hallway that was empty at the moment. John wondered why they were here of all place, but wisely kept his mouth shut. It was always good to keep one's mouth shut before being snapped on about interrupting the other's thought process. Strangely as a matter of fact, Sherlock had been rather quiet from the time they had departed from Scotland Yard to this place. Eventually, Sherlock made a sharp left turn to another short hallway that had a single door with two arm guards standing on either side of it.

"Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson." He politely announced with his usual plastic smile. "I was told that they were being held here by my brother, Maycroft."

One of the guards stepped forwards with a scanning wand and proceeded to scanned their bodies before nodding to his partner. "They are good."

The door was opened. Sherlock thanked them before proceeding on wards with John hurrying at his heels. "What the heck was that all about back there? Security here when the whole movement building is swarming with them?"

"Its a matter of security in regards to the case, John. As of early this morning, Maycroft told me that our suspect's 'dead' parents are currently being held here for their own protection, thanks to my own suggestion. I have a feeling that our game player has a very religion routine that he keeps every day for his own survival and that of Kate."

"So by having them be taking in by government agents, you believe that this move will disrupt our suspect and make him pull a even bigger move that would only further risk Kate and your unborn twins?" John took a deep breath. He let it out slowly. Sherlock pushed a button on a side panel once they reached two double elevator doors. "See? I think the more involve you are personal with this case, the more absurd your ideas get!"

"Call them absurd as you may, dear Watson." Sherlock calmly replied as they stepped inside and the doors closed behind them. "But I have every confidence within my own mind that by pulling this on him, he will have no other way but to react and run. That is what my plan entails. You ruin a perfect routine with something dramatic, pull a few strings and it will be spiraling like wild fire across the internet or telly. He has no other choice but to keep to the game once he finds out about the fatal car 'accident'b that killed the only two people that truly cared and loved him sincerely."

"But what if he doesn't buy into it, Sherlock? What then?"

The elevator bell softly dinged, indicating that they had reached their destined floor before the elevator doors slid open, revealing a rather fine looking and spacious room that was filled with fine art and furniture. There were several government agents that were station about the room. They gave no indication of Sherlock's presence or of his best friend as they took a step inside. In the middle of the room by a large burning fireplace, sat a elderly couple. They were both dressed in pajama's and both wore very tired faces.

"Then there is always the backup plan." Sherlock replied out the corner of his mouth. "Don't say a word about Kate or her pregnancy. It is more likely that they haven't heard of her disappearance at all, given that they are country folks and they believe that their son is living an honest life in the city."

"Right. Nothing said." John sniffed as he followed from behind. The couple looked up at the two strangers that slowly advanced their way. The husband, a slightly balding fellow with grey eyes and a kind face and heavyset body, started to get up from his seat, but a sharp word from his wife made him sit right back down. She cast the two younger men a look of anger that almost had John standing behind Sherlock, if it wasn't for the fact that he had stepped off towards the burning fireplace, thus leaving him to roast hotly underneath the angry gaze of this small woman.

"I already told your men that we haven't done anything wrong. Why haven't you allowed us to leave?" She spoke softly, but very firmly. John helplessly glanced over at Sherlock who was busily warming his fingers over the hot flames.

"What evidence do you have against me and my husband that you have to come crashing through our front door at five-thirty in the wee hours of the bloody morning like some beguiling rebels?" She continued on hotly. She put her hands on her hips. "Well?"

"You have my most sincere condolences, but I'm afraid that my brother was only following orders on my behalf." Sherlock turned to face them. He smirked. "But there is a reason why I had you brought here and so you must remain so until we see fit to release the both of you without any problems."

"Problems?" Ejaculated the wife. "Do you even know what our rights are as citizens of the UK? What kind of farce are you trying to pull on us?"

"Farce?" Sherlock frowned. He shook his head. "Madam, I'm afraid that this isn't a laughing matter when my current case involves your only son and a missing young college grad."

John's mouth fell. And he told_ him_ to not speak of the case, and yet here Sherlock stands, speaking of it freely as if it was only mid afternoon tea.

As expected, both of the parent's faces drained considerably of blood. The wife sat down beside her husband on the couch while Sherlock went and took a seat across from them. John was left to stand in the middle with his hands tucked in his pockets. He abruptly pulled a side chair to sit in the middle.

Sherlock reclined carelessly against his with one arm dangling on the back of the sofa. "So now I have your full and undecided attention."

"What do you want with our son?" The husband asked suspiciously while drawing his wife against him with one arm. "And who are you to ask us?"

"My name is Sherlock Holmes and this is my friend, Dr. Watson. I am a private detective consultant that often works off and on with the government and her inner political ranks from time to time, when the case is both rewarding with a nice check and interesting enough to catch my eye and full attention. So," He sat up, leaning forward slightly with his elbows resting upon his knees. "Tell me what you know about your son's current whereabouts."

"We don't know where he is right now." The wife spoke up quickly before her husband could reply. She glanced up at him with a frown before turning back to look up at Sherlock. "We only saw him a few months ago and that was it."

"That's a lie." Sherlock said softly. "And you know it."

"So what is it to you, sir?" She snapped, eyes flashing angrily. "I should sue you for all of the emotional trauma that you're men have put both me and my husband through this morning. He has a bad heart and doesn't need to go through a interrogation from the likes of you."

"I already know he has a bad heart, madam. Just like I know that you and him have been having daily interaction with you son within the past several weeks because you instantly became defensive of your son when I asked you where his whereabouts are."

She started to say something to rebuke his remark, but her husband shook his head helplessly. "Katie, my dear. He knows too much already. Why don't you just tell him the truth?" He encouraged her softly.

"You're name it Katie?" John suddenly broke in, shocked.

"Yes, my real name it Kathrine." She replied. "Why?"

John exchanged glances with Sherlock. "Its funny how similar the names are, Sherlock." Turning back to Katie, he offered her a small friendly smile. "What can you tell us about your son?"

"What do you want to know about him? He has always been a loner for as long as I can remember. He doesn't have very much friends, if he has any at all and is socially awkward with everyone around him."

"Does he have any other siblings?" Sherlock asked.

"No." She shook her head sadly. "well, at at least not any more. He did have a older step-sister which I had from an earlier marriage with another man, but she died at suddenly from a massive stroke almost fifteen years ago at the age of thirteen. I named her Kathrine after myself."

"This can't be much of a mere conscious that our victim has a similar name to his dead sister, Sherlock." John whispered. Sherlock motioned him to remain silent while he continued with his questions.

"Has his behavior changed recently within, say, the past two years or so? Has he seemed more outgoing or more talkative then usual about anything or anyone in particular?"

"Thomas only seemed more outgoing after coming home one night from a friend's Halloween party bash. He had been drinking heavily that night and this young woman and her sister had ordered a cab to bring him home to the country side with the expenses being fully paid. I don't remember much what he said other then that he met someone who had opened his eyes and changed his perspective on who he was as a man. I had thought at the time that perhaps it was just the drink talking because Thomas isn't much of a drinker to begin with. I dare say that maybe that was his first time actually being just a normal human being that night."

"And then what happened in the days or weeks following after that night?"

"He seemed to be doing alright for about a week and then he went back to his usual introvert self. Did he seem off to you, honey?" She asked, turning to her husband.

"No, not to my eyes. Thomas had always been rather withdrawn socially, so I thought maybe perhaps it was just a fling of some sort that had come and gone." He replied throwing up a hand. "So why are you so interested in our son, Mr. Holmes?"

"It saddens me to having to be the one to tell you that he is a prime suspect in the mysterious disappearance of my girlfriend, Kate Becker."

John, who had been absently drinking some ice water, almost choked and spit up what was in his mouth as soon as he heard those words escape from Sherlock's mouth. He shot him a warning glare, but was promptly ignored by the younger man.

Sherlock allowed a precise full long minute to pass before he added gravely, "And she is heavily pregnant with my twins, which are due any day or hour from now. I have been searching for almost three weeks straight, looking for clues of her where she could have been taken do with very little details, until your son decided to send a letter to my personal residence, taunting me to find her before time runs out." He handed the parents the letter that he had received from Thomas forty-eight hours prior. "According to evidence that we had found at my girlfriend's house, he had been stalking her for almost a full year. She and I had a bit of a falling out, so I wasn't aware of what was going on until recently when my brother brought the case to my attention."

"Oh my god. I can't believe that Thomas would do such an horrible thing to a innocent and vulnerable woman." Kathrine breathed as she tried to absorb what had just been revealed. Her husband whispered something in her ear as he held her closely to him. Tears began to pour down her cheeks. She handed Sherlock back the letter, covering her face with her hands as she softly cried.

As much as John wanted to comfort the distressed parents, he know what kind of move Sherlock was pulling on them. Get them to talk about their son's lifestyle and behavior and then spring it on them what terrible things he had done so a complete stranger who has very strong ties to a very famous detective who has just as much stronger ties to the British government itself through his older brother. Before you know it, all the emotion and mental shock would be sure then enough to break the weaker of the two into talking easily.

John offered his handkerchief to Kathrine, which she gratefully took to wipe her tears. "I know that this must be very hard on you both, but we need as much information as you know about Thomas and his recent movements between your home and London. Kate and her unborn twins' lives are on the line as we speak and if Thomas proves to be as more unstable under the stress of being in closed quarters with a distressed woman in labor, God only knows what possibly he could do to either of them in the spur of a split second. Sherlock has been just as frantic as everyone else who is working in finding them alive before Thomas can do any harm to them. If you know anything about whatever it is he has planned or if you even may know where he would be holding the girl, just tell us and I can assure you both, that Sherlock will do everything in his power to make sure that you two are not prosecuted by the British government once she is found safe and alive."

Kathrine and her husband silently stared at each other before nodded as one. Turning back to the doctor and his detective partner, she set her shoulders firmly. "What is it that you need for us to do?"

Sherlock motioned with a finger for one of the agents nearby to come over. "Follow this man to the third floor and everything else will be explained to you there by my older brother, Maycroft." He said as he got to his feet. "John, shall we be going now?"

"Oh, of course." John whispered for them to stay strong. He and Sherlock headed towards the door.

"Mr. Holmes." Kathrine called out suddenly. He turned around. She bit her bottom lip. "What will happen to my son if you and your men are successful with finding your girlfriend before time runs out? I know that he has emotional issues and has always been alone, but I don't wan't to believe that he would even hurt a single hair on her head."

"He may not hurt Kate, but he will end up hurting two innocent tiny lives because of their connections to me as their father. A emotionally unstable psychopath wouldn't want to be reminded of any other individual ties when it involves a woman whom they are over-obsessed with. I have already warned him in a televised broadcast that he if he ends up hurting her or our unborn children during the remainder of the hours that we play this game, I will not hold back on anything once I find him personaly myself." Sherlock and John departed from the room before she could say anything else. Once outside in the fresh, crisp air of London's noisy streets, the two hailed for a cab which pulled up along side a few seconds later.

"Are you not going to wait for Lestrade and Maycroft?" John asked as he overheard the address that Sherlock gave to the taxi driver. "It would only make things worse if you do this alone."

"Who said anything about me going in alone?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow at his friend. "Did you bring your gun?"

"Of course I did! After what happened during your last Christmas special case involving that blackmailer, I don't' want to risk either one of our necks." John snorted softly. "Why wouldn't I when we are going into a four story crazy nut abandoned nut house where only God knows, where the bloody hell Thomas is keeping himself and Kate in. It will take more then four hours for us to navigate in that place before he even knows that he isn't alone."

"Which is exactly why I told Maycroft about your idea of posing his parents as if they had died in a car accident. All we need to do is wait for him to emerge from the place, tell the others that he's departed from the premise and then go in ourselves and search for Kate before she stars going into premature labor. Which is something that I want to try and prevent, is possible."

John resigned himself of staring out his passenger side window. "And then what will happen afterwards when he comes back and finds her gone?"

"Leave that to me only, my dear Watson." Sherlock replied very softly while texting a message on his cellphone. "Only important mission is making sure that Thomas falls for our trap and getting Kate out of there while he's away, safe and sound. Let me deal with the aftermath of whatever comes once shes in good hands."

John looked over at his friend with a worried expression in his eyes. He reached into his pocket, his fingers expertly glancing over the cool metal and its all too-familer shape with his tips before he withdrew the gun and held it out to Sherlock.

"Here." He said, placing it into Sherlock's lap. "You may be an expert with mix martial arts and other forms of fighting, but you can't always fight with your fists when your back is against the wall."

Sherlock pocketed the gun. "What about yourself? Don't you need it more then I do?"

John sniffed as if he asked a ridiculous childish question. "Since when have I not left the house without a back up? Mary is very well aware of whats going on and has left the baby your parents place for the night. She will be roof watching from the other building with two of her former co-agents once we get there." He allowed himself a grin when Sherlock's face for once look genuinely surprised. "Can't say that you can't have an extra backup in just case things get a little dirty after all the fun and hype gets taken away, Mr. Soon-to-be-fatherhood Sherlock Holmes."


End file.
